And We Return To Stardust
by ColourmeLemon
Summary: "There's no one left I love. So what do I have to fight for?" She never asked to be a part of the Resistance. But a certain infuriating pilot was making it harder and harder to not care. Poe Dameron/OC (Not entirely canon compliant; set before the events of TFA; Angst - Romance - eventual smut)R&R!
1. Chapter 1

**And We Return To Stardust**

Prologue

I'd been rolled into Headquarters, half dead; the lone survivor of my village of six thousand people. That was six months ago. People had been staring, pointing. Whispering among themselves. I remember wanting to die. I remember crying, struggling a bit. They had had to sedate me once I'd started to scream. General Organa's sad smile was the last thing I remember seeing before I faded into deep, drug-induced oblivion.

Today, I spend my time wandering around the hangars, repairing X-wings, cleaning toilets, hiding in store rooms. I meet General Organa once or twice a month, when she sends for me. She asks me if I've been keeping busy. If I need to see the doctor. If I need any medicines, if I've been eating well. Mostly we sit and play chess together. She never goes into specifics. She never asks about home or if I miss my mother or my best friend or my cat because she knows it's pointless. She knows exactly what it's like to lose everything. And so I know to never ask her why she's being kind to me.

I know people talk behind my back. They're nice to my face, always helpful and smiling but no one really knows how to talk to me without pitying me. Mostly they wonder why on earth Leia has taken such an interest in me.

My roommate Jess is the closest I have to a friend. And I'm grateful for her. She isn't always around; perpetually out on some mission or another. She's one of the 'most promising pilots in the Resistance'. Or so I've been told. Even when she is around she's usually off drinking or playing poker with the others on her squadron. She tried to get me to join them a couple of times. After I told her, a little irritably, that no way in fucking hell would a bunch of Resistance Commanders be okay with a random janitor joining them, she gave up. Still, she brought me a bottle and stayed up with me all night, recounting all that had happened during that night's game, and on their mission and what Garth said and how Riche had slapped him. It's become a bit of a ritual now. She makes me laugh.

And so, my life goes on. Even as my mother and my best friend and my cat exist only as a fist full of ash.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1

On the first day of my seventh month on base, I wake up to white light pricking my eyes as the bulbs in my room are switched on by Jess.

"Listen, I know you're a hot shot pilot who wakes up early and all, but why - " I mumble, yawning as I stretch.

"I need your help. My baby is hurt and also needs a fresh coat of paint _and_ I've been transferred so I need to get it done as soon as possible coz - "

"You need to impress your new commander?"

"You read my mind." Jess smirks. "Now up! Quick!"

* * *

"Now?"

"Nope, still not working", I hear Jess call out from the pit.

I'm on my back, under Martha, Jess' X-wing, fiddling around desperately with the same five wires I've been trying to correctly align for the better part of the past hour. I swear I've tried every bloody permutation and combination, _twice,_ and I'm not easy to rattle but I swear this time I'm fucking -

"Still having trouble with the altimeter, Pava?"

I hear Jess shutting the hatch as she climbs out of the cockpit.

"Commander Dameron!"

"At ease, Lieutenant. I'm not Kare; you can drop the theatrics." The deep voice that interrupted my stream of consciousness sounds amused. "Who's the one with the colourful language?"

I slide out from underneath and stand up next to Jess, wiping the grime off my forehead and find myself facing a dark-eyed, curly haired man with a droid beeping curiously at his ankles. He's smirking. I try to move the hair out my eyes, feeling slightly defensive.

"This is my roommate, Raza. She helps with repairs at the hangar, Sir." Jess nudges my side, ever so subtly. I salute. He looks even more amused and it's getting on my nerves. It doesn't help that for some reason, my heart's racing.

"So what exactly is the delay?" His eyebrows arch as he looks straight at me and the droid beeps loudly. He ignores it. I sigh and crouch down under the plane again, as I tell him about how I tried to reconfigure, how it started to smoke, and how I've tried every combination possible, when I turn to my side and see that he has slid underneath with me. We lie there on our backs, shoulder to shoulder, while Jess keeps an eye on the indicator on the plane's dashboard.

I wait patiently while he tries out everything on his own, asking questions occasionally; asking if we've checked the sensors for damage, if we've checked the dashboard circuitry. I watch his hands working above us with utmost concentration because I don't know where else to look. I can feel the heat radiating off his body. Or maybe that's just the plane. My stomach churns.

Suddenly he cries out in triumph and digs his hand into the space behind the wires. His brow is furrowed as he moves his hand around, out of sight, and finally smiles when he takes out a charred piece of metal. The resistor. What the everloving fuck.

"It usually turns out to be the one stupid little thing we overlooked. It's all right, cadet. You did good." Commander Dameron throws the rotten part at me, smiling slightly as he wipes his face once we're back on our feet.

"You too, Pava. She's worked hard, now make sure you do the replacing. And don't forget the meeting this afternoon." And with that he strides off, the droid trailing behind him, still beeping. Jess sends a half-salute in his direction. She turns to me, a wicked look in her eye.

"So what's it like, being stuck under an X-wing with the legendary Poe Dameron?"

"So that's the guy everyone's lusting after?" I'm not the most social person there is, but even I've heard of his exploits, on and off base. And of his constant altercations with Leia. I feel slightly disappointed. I shrug.

"Seems pretty normal."

"What were you expecting, some casanova who'd flirt your pants off you?" Jess laughs and then suddenly becomes serious.

"He's brilliant, you know. I don't know what the Resistance would do without him. I mean, I used to think people were exaggerating when they praised him so much. But he truly is brilliant. As a pilot, _and_ as a leader. That's why people admire him so much. Though you gotta admit," She smiles slyly, "Those curls do help - "

I start to laugh.

"- and so does that ass."

"Jess! That's your Commander you're talking about!" I exclaim in mock horror, but she just continues to grin.

"Don't deny it, Raza. I know you were into it."

"Rubbish! I was not into anything! You're the one going on and on and _on_ about how bloody brilliant he is -"

She smacks my shoulder in response. "I'm just stating a fact. And if you were checking him out, don't be shy, I was too. And if you weren't, then what were you even doing?." She nods at me, eyebrows arching suggestively. I shake my head in resignation as I pack up the tools and she climbs into the plane.

"All right, I'll see you at lunch." And saying so, I walk away towards my next job; the day shift in the toilets of the hangar.

* * *

I finish cleaning the women's room in a record hour and a half. It's the same process everyday; scrub the basins, pour cleaner into the commodes, scrub the floor, scrub the commodes, air out the chute, empty the bins; so it doesn't take long to get really good at it. They tried keeping droids full time for this work initially, but they malfunctioned a few times and it all apparently ended in disaster. So now the only thing they do is mop the floors during the day. I clean the place every morning and there's an old man who does it at night.

I don't mind; I have a lot of free time. And mornings are when everyone is busy training, or planning or whatever, so I'm mostly left to sing or cry in peace.

I'm almost done cleaning the floor of the men's room, my mind blissfully empty, humming a vague tune when a man enters. He makes his way to the stalls and when I see who it is, I try to slink away quietly but it's all in vain.

"Hey! You're the cadet who was working on Pava's X-wing. I'm sorry I don't quite remember your name - " Says Commander Dameron, surprisingly enthusiastic about spotting me in the men's room.

"Raza. And I'm not a cadet."

"You work here as well?" He looks amused, again; but this time the look in his eyes is kinder.

"Yeah, I do the morning shift." I shrug, smiling slightly in reply.

"A woman of many talents."

I don't know how to talk to him; I don't know why I'm so nervous. I'm not ashamed of my job. My mother always said that any work done well and true is dignified, important work. And the business of cleaning was the most important of them all. But I'm embarrassed all the same. The words don't come to me so I just force a short laugh in reply. He's still looking at me, smiling, so I gesture to the floor and he moves away to conduct his business saying, "I'm sorry I shouldn't keep you too long."

I leave the restroom and come back only once he's gone. I should be laughing. My best friend Shola would have found it all hilarious. But I can never tell her so I try to think of something else while I finish up.

* * *

One of the few beautiful things about living with the Resistance is the mess hall. It's overrun with orange uniforms but the people wearing them could not be more colourful. The horned Zabrak, the indigo skinned Pantorans, the Falathians and so many other ethnicities I don't recognise; the tall dark woman with fiery red hair and pointed ears, the short man with a snout and stumpy fingers, the beautiful human-like woman with eyes like a cat; and the many, many different races of humans, all armed with their own stories, their own particular ways of expressing affection, of swearing, of paying respect. It's one of the few advantages of being on the sidelines; I get to observe it all without having to give anything in return.

I spot Jess at one of the long tables and we exchange a nod as greeting. She's seated with her new squadron and they seem deeply engrossed in some sort of debate. I never join her during mealtimes even though she's asked; making small talk or faking interest in the 'Next Great Mission' that is going to save the galaxy is almost painful for me. As I pass by I notice their Commander is missing.

I see him soon enough; he's standing in line to get food. I make sure to put a few people between us as I join the line.

Just as I'm making my way to the tables with my lunch, I pass by him again and this time he calls out to me. I thought he'd reached his squadron table already but he's talking to a man with an eye patch and quickly makes his way over to where I'm standing.

I don't understand why in Kala's name he wants to talk to me. My weak attempts at getting away bear no fruit and I force a smile as he invites me over to his table. Actually, he takes hold of my elbow and nearly pulls me to it. It's irritating, this invasion of my solitude; but I can't ignore the part of me that flares up in delight at the attention he seems intent on giving me. I don't allow myself anything more than that one moment, though. He probably just feels sorry for me. Maybe Jess had said something to him.

Jess, however, looks just as surprised as everyone else when he interrupts them, nudging me lightly ahead as he introduces me.

"Black Squadron, I'd like you to meet cadet Raza; she helped fix Pava's altimeter today and will be joining us for lunch."

I nod and say a rather weak 'hi' while they beam up at me. Well, not all of them; there's a very pale, raven haired man sitting at the far end who doesn't bother looking up from his plate. The Commander, I notice, hasn't missed his lack of enthusiasm. He chooses to ignore it, turning to me and smiling as he urges me to take a seat. His hand is still on my back and I can feel my head going woozy like someone's pumping fluid into my brain. I sit down next to Jess, slightly dazed and she flashes me a happy grin, her eyebrows arched in a look that says she's impressed. I merely shake my head. The Commander sits down right across from me and then proceeds to ignore me completely for the rest of the afternoon as he becomes deeply engrossed in a muted conversation with the dark man sitting beside him. I turn my attention to my food.

For a few minutes after that there is silence as everyone eats, until Jess starts chattering about the new software update on their planes and then everyone joins in, their earlier discussion seemingly forgotten. I stay quiet, initially.

Then, the kind-looking, blonde man with pointed ears, seated next to me turns and introduces himself as Darekh and tells me he's happy to meet me and that he's heard a lot about me from Jess; the thin, bald woman sitting besides Jess starts telling me about the time her altimeter malfunctioned and eventually I end up promising to help with her X-wing's humidifier; Snap, the only one on the squad whose name I know, because he was with Jess under Kare, cracks some silly joke about the Commander's bot which earns him skeptical looks from Jess and the bald woman but makes me laugh, which then leads to me being on the receiving end of their disdainful stares.

And slowly, I feel less and less like an intruder. And after many months, I leave the table feeling just a little bit lighter than usual.

Perhaps to them it's utterly normal behaviour; the laughter, the teasing, the sudden switch to a more conspiratorial tone as they discuss some officer's failed mission, some cadet's relationship with their superior. To me, it's a jolt as I'm reminded of so many, many things I had tried so hard to forget. But this time, while it still threatens to overwhelm me, it isn't just blatant, inescapable sorrow. This time it's tinged with yearning and a little bit of hope that maybe I can find people again; that I'm not destined to be all alone for the rest of my life.

I steal a glimpse at the Commander. He's still talking to the man beside him. Frewell, Jess had said his name was. They look up, finally, when Snap clears his throat and everyone gets up to leave. The atmosphere changes almost instantly as they clear up the empty dishes quickly and start to make their way out of the mess hall. Frewell calls the raven-haired man and they walk away in a different direction altogether. The latter had been almost completely silent during lunch.

"Black Squadron has ground duty today," says Jess as we enter the hangar. Ground duty involves fixing and cleaning their planes and strategizing for the next mission. 'Fucking boring' she mouths, but Dameron spots her.

"Pava," he warns, but laughs anyway. "It is fucking boring, actually, but only I'm allowed to say that. You should be thanking the Force for this. A day without the threat of sudden death is a small vacation, in my opinion."

"Commander, on this ship, there is no vacation from the threat of dying. Not even for a day." Snap's reply is sardonic. The Commander only smirks in response. The bald woman - Roshana - suddenly grabs my hand and I flinch. She doesn't notice.

"Mine's this way. Please, you have to take a look at the humidifier. There's something wrong, I always end up sweating buckets by the end of the flight." Her large eyes focus on me and her grip on my arm is making my skin burn.

Dameron turns around at that.

"Rosha, I told you, I checked it out, there's nothing wrong with your humidifier. You're sweating because you're tense. During the mission. Leave the poor girl alone". He smiles at me apologetically. It's the first time he's looked at me since he sat down at the table. I don't know why I'm keeping track.

Roshana looks mutinous.

"I don't mind. I don't have anything else to do, really. It's fine. I don't mind helping. Show me where your plane is." Anything to get her to let go of my arm.

She flashes me a rather sweet smile and finally lets go. The Commander shakes his head in defeat. The others have already moved on to their planes.

"Follow me," she says.

She veers off to the right and I follow obediently.

I don't remember the rest of the day.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

When I wake up, the familiar sterile ceiling of the med bay is above me. The crook of my right arm itches from the IV tube. Jess is asleep in the chair beside my bed. I sit up, overcome by thirst. And shame. For my thirst at least, there is a bottle of water on the side table and I finish it within minutes. By the time I've screwed the cap back on Jess is awake.

She regards me with wary eyes.

"Hi there, stranger. How're you feeling?"

She leans over and presses the button on the wall behind me.

"Couldn't give me two minutes to compose my sob story?" I sound like a frog. She smiles a tiny, tiny smile.

"You scared us good. Fucking stars, Roshana almost passed out when you started shaking. No, convulsing, really. She thought you were gonna die. She thought you'd inhaled something while working on her ship. Poor girl. She refused to leave this place. I managed to kick her out only after promising to call as soon as you wake up."

It's coming back to me now. I remember the wave of nausea, the trembling in my hands that started just as I was about to start finishing up. I shut my eyes.

"Did I finish repairing the humidifier?"

"What?" Jessika's eyes widen.

"The humidifier. It really was malfunctioning. I had to - "

But I'm rudely interrupted by a flying pillow. Next Jess picks up the water bottle, aiming squarely at my face. She looks half-crazed.

"I swear, you say one more word about that fucking humidifier -"

At this point I'm laughing too much to say anything anyway, and Kala, does it feel good to laugh. My stomach's knotted up in the best way possible and for a moment there, it's just Jess and me; her mouth twisting into a smirk; her eyes warm.

We're interrupted by the nurse she called for; he checks my pulse, asks me all the usual questions - 'have you been eating well, sleeping well, having nightmares, seeing the therapist' - and I give him the answers he wants. They're all lies of course. I just want to be let out of there. He advises me to continue seeing my therapist and after handing me a bottle of vitamin supplements, takes out the IV tube and signs me out of the ward. If this was a real hospital, I wouldn't be let off so easily. But this is the Resistance. The med bay is understaffed and chronically filled with panicked officers and cadets. Almost everyone on board has PTSD of some sort. There is only so much time they can devote to each patient, fortunately for me.

Jess isn't happy about it. She says nothing, as we leave the med bay, but there's a look in her eyes.

For a few moments we walk in silence. She asks me if I want to eat. I say no. She glares at me. I sigh in defeat. We turn left to get to the mess hall, but we're soon intercepted by a short, plump woman with very severe cropped hair.

She stands with her hands on her hips and glares at Jess and points to her pager. Jess takes hers out of her pocket and turns it on. She looks annoyed but she follows the woman nonetheless. And drags me along with her. Probably as proof that I really was ill and she hadn't gone off-grid for fun. Which means I'm going to be blamed for her not turning up for whatever it is that she was supposed to turn up to.

"Commander Dameron has been looking for you all morning. Code red for the Black squadron. He'll brief you soon enough. Why the hell; was your pager switched off Pava? Even BB-8 was unable to find you."

The short woman's voice is stern but face is unreadable. She leads us to the hangar. She's about a head shorter than me, her stride about half of mine and I'm still not able to keep up.

"I was in the med bay, Jeyela. Roshana knew. Why didn't she say anything?" Jess looks unperturbed but I know she's bursting inside. They weren't expecting another mission this early in the week.

The short lady casts me a look when I enter the hangar with them, but doesn't say anything. She points to the group gathered around Jess' X-wing. "Good luck," is all she says before she leaves.

* * *

The members of the Black squadron do not seem like they've ever heard of a code red in their life. Snap's seated on the floor, limbs sprawled, eating a banana; Roshana's talking to someone on the comm.; the Commander is tinkering around with his droid; Darekh's staring into space; only the raven-haired man seems tense as he paces round and round the plane.

"Jess are you sure I should even be here…." I mutter uncertainly but she shushes me.

"Commander Dameron!"

"Pava! Finally. Fucking stars, where the hell have you been? Why was your pager turned off?" Poe Dameron springs up at the sound of her voice.

"I'm sorry, sir; I was in the medical bay - "

"What's wrong with you?" His brow furrows immediately.

"Not me, sir. Raza was taken ill."

"Oh. Um, I hope you're doing okay?" He's just noticed my presence.

"I'm fine now. Thanks. If you want me to leave, let me -" My voice is shaky but it doesn't matter; he's already moved on.

"All right. It's a rescue mission. General Loish, of Zelca, has been stranded on the moon T-98ID of planet Holoserca, Galaxy Y89, which is a long way off as you know so time is of the essence here."

Jess looks slightly embarrassed at that but he doesn't pause.

"He is also a Senator and sympathetic to our cause. He was on his way home after meeting Senator Yull of Killick when his ship crashed onto this apparently uninhabited satellite. That's the official story anyway. Actually he was on Killick to talk to one of our arms suppliers. And he was gunned down by the First Order. That's why he's stuck. Leia personally asked us to undertake this so we absolutely cannot fuck this up; to make matters worse, his eight year old daughter is on board with him."

He pauses, looking at each and every member of his team before continuing.

"Darekh, Roshana, Snap; you'll be coming with me."

Darekh and Snap nod; Rosha flashes a a quick smile and then assumes an expression so grave, you'd think someone had died.

"Pava, I need you on standby - " She does not look happy but she doesn't argue with him. He turns to the raven haired man and says, "Findley, I need you in the command room." The man looks relieved. He salutes Dameron and waves to the others, holding his hand up high before running off to Headquarters.

"Pava, until we call for backup, you're in charge here. We need eyes on the First Order and on Loish's home planet. You need to keep me updated on every detail. All right let's go! Let's go!" He pats Jess on the shoulder as he turns away. The others are already suiting up, putting on helmets; there are people running to and from their planes, loading medical supplies, food, batteries.

Suddenly, Dameron turns around. "Fuck! I almost forgot. We need a mechanic. Leia's orders. Apparently Loish specifically asked for one. Jess send one up as soon as you can. "

"Raza's a mechanic. And she's really good, she fixed my humidifier. Why can't we take her?" Roshana shrugs.

Everyone turns to look at me.

I don't know what to say. "Yeah, I guess I could - "

"Brilliant." He doesn't even let me finish. "Suit up. You'll be coming with me." And with that, he's off. Everyone follows suit and I start walking towards the supply cabinet. All of the ships have a toolkit on board but there are some extra things I want to take, just in case.

"Wait!"

Jess runs up to me and puts her hands on my shoulders. "Are you sure you're okay? I don't think this is a good idea, you just had a terrible attack yesterday, I'm gonna kill that idiot! I can't believe she volunteered you! She knew you'd been ill - "

"Jess, really, I'm fine. Yesterday was one bad day. Who on this ship is sane anyway? Everyone's walking around with some unresolved PTSD debt bullshit." Even I can hear the bitterness in my voice. So I try a smile.

"I'll be fine. The change will probably do me good. I'm going to be getting off this stupid ship after _ages._ I'm pumped!" I shrug. Snap walks past us, brow furrowed as he mutters into a mic.

Jess steps back to let me take the suit one of the hangar bots offers to me.

"You do NOT look pumped."

I catch sight of my reflection in the metal door of the X-wing before me. I laugh because she's right. I look like I haven't slept for days. But I feel restless; the good kind of restless born out of adrenaline. I quickly put on the orange flight suit.

"I'll be fine Jess. It's just a rescue. You'll see me soon. Now go." I smile again and this time its genuine. I'm touched by how much she cares. For someone she's known for hardly a year. She pauses; searching my face for I don't know what, gives me a brief, tight hug and then she's gone.

* * *

Flying with Commander Poe Dameron is a surprisingly easy experience.

It's my first time in an X-wing that involves actually flying it, not dismantling its engines. I'm sitting in the co-pilot's seat no less. I should be nervous. Excited, at least. Instead I feel calm. So calm I could fall asleep. I look over at him for the second time since take off and spot a slight, extremely slight smile playing on his lips. I've never seem him more at ease than he is now. My father used to say, a great pilot becomes the plane. Or some such. I see what he meant.

"Moving into hyperspeed in 3….2…." He calmly pushes the the shift ahead and I look out of the window in time to catch one last glimpse of Snap's plane before we're engulfed in a thousand brilliant streaks of light. The ship shudders violently and then the vibration dies down to a low constant hum.

"That shouldn't be happening right? The jerk? Do you want me to look into it once we're back?" I blurt out without thinking.

"I'd be very impressed if you could even figure out why that's happening. A lot of people have tried. No one's been able to find the problem." He smiles that same annoying smile again. "I just figured she's getting old. But yeah, go ahead. Maybe you'll be luckier."

"Maybe." I turn my attention to the front. But he seems to want to chat all of a sudden.

"So where did you learn to fix X wings?"

"My father. He was a mechanic. I used to help around when I was small."

"That's nice. Where is your father now?"

"He died when I was fifteen."

The smile on his face fades. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right."

He's still looking at me, his eyes soft. I feel lightheaded for some reason.

"My mother died when I was sixteen."

"Do you miss her?"

The question falls out before I can complete the thought.

He sighs. "Sometimes I'm afraid I'll forget her. Sometimes it takes a lot of concentration to even remember her face clearly. Eventually I do, but…." He pauses, looking out of the window; we're still in hyperspeed.

"I do miss her. I'll just see something that reminds me of her and then it's back to square one. But it's not as painful anymore. Sometimes it is, but not usually. Do you?"

I nod. "It's the same with me. It does get easier. It happened with my dad so I'm hoping it'll work the same way this time around."

"Did you lose someone else?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry."

For a while there's silence and we're both looking out into space; there's this sense of having trespassed into forbidden territory; there are rules as to how much intimacy is allowed between two relative strangers; especially when one of them is a Commander of the Resistance and the other is just a lowly mechanic.

But the moment passes and I turn to him hesitantly.

"Commander?"

"Just call me Dameron, it's fine."

"All right, _Dameron ,_ how long until we reach?"

"It's going to take us 18 hours and 37 minutes. Give or take another 30 minutes." His face is solemn once again.

"Fucking stars."

He only laughs.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

My flight with Commander Dameron is easy and uneventful. If I don't count the occasional _unnecessary_ speeding up of my heart beat, that is. He asks me about my life, my old life; my family, my friends, my pets. He doesn't ask what happened to them; I think he knows they're all dead. When I'm talking he genuinely listens, smiling and nodding at all the right places. He tells me about his mother and father, how he spent his childhood in awe of the Rebels, waiting for the day he could be like them.

In between our conversations I read the X-wing repair manual and munch on tasteless crackers; really the only food we have for the journey there, everything else is off-limits. I take long naps, and then I take short naps. He is always, always awake; either reading or humming or discussing something with BB-8 in a language I don't understand. I don't know what he does while I'm asleep; there's no way to even make contact with anybody else while the plane is in hyperspeed. He's probably used to it.

He wakes me up at some point during my fifth nap; we're phasing out. I'm strapping on my seatbelt as he slowly pushes the toggle ahead. There's a slight vibration that slowly builds to loud hum; then the plane jerks, with a fury that makes my heart race, for about fifteen seconds and we're enveloped by the vastness of space once again.

I turn to him but he cuts me off – "I know, I know, it's not smooth. We'll look at it once we're back."

"Yeah not smooth at all. I'm surprised everything didn't just fall apart. This is really dangerous actually, how long have you been flying in this state?"

"Long enough". He switches on the comm.

I swear under my breath but I think he hears me. He shoots me a look I can't decipher but before I can say anything Snap's plane appears to our left, followed by the other two and the comm. crackles.

"Alright Cap, what's the plan? Direct landing or - "

"No I'm going to make contact with the Senator's ship first. Once he gives the signal you and me land directly. Rosh and Darekh - do you copy?" Dameron speaks fast and utterly focused. I realise I'm staring and look away.

The other two ships respond in the affirmative.

"All right. I want the two of you to take a spin, check for threats; you know the drill. I'll give you the signal to land. Roshana contact command centre and update them. And keep me updated. I'm out."

* * *

General Loish is tall; taller than us all, with skin as green as a forest after the rain and a long, wise forehead. His voice is deep and soothing but his words are full of fear. His daughter stands beside him; taller than most human children her age, with skin a few shades darker than her father's.

Much of the exchange that passes between him and Dameron is gibberish to me. They talk about planets, galaxies, corporations, political factions; it feels almost like a different language. The others listen closely, their eyes moving from one person to the other. Only the daughter seems as distracted as I feel, fidgeting and sighing. Eventually the two of them move off into Loish's ship, the General leading his daughter away with him. BB-8 looks around hesitantly, beeping in his usual way before he decides to follow them.

The ship itself is magnificent; it consists of a central, elliptical black portion, one end of which is covered in blasters and the other end is clear glass. The interiors are black as well and I can faintly make out people moving around inside. Their uniforms are black. At a distance of fifty meters from this central vessel are huge metal rings of brilliant gold and black, winding around like an asteroid belt. It looks almost like a miniature planet and I can't wait to watch it take flight. I'm sure the rings revolve.

Snap catches me looking at it. "It's called a Nebula 500. Runs on nuclear power. Yes, the rings revolve".

"How does it take off?"

"There's blasters underneath. See the marks around it?" He points to a shallow, crater-like formation within ten meters, all around the edge of the ship. "Those are from the landing. You'll see it for yourself anyway. Costs no less than a small solar system".

I can't help but give a soft whistle. He laughs. Then Dameron emerges from the ship and everyone immediately tenses up. I almost laugh but Dameron does not look like he'd take kindly to it.

"All right. So the damage to the plane has been almost completely repaired; his pilots and mechanic have been on it since they landed, which is," he checks his watch, "for the past 31 hours. So we will leave exactly at daybreak, tomorrow, so that's about 23 hours from now; _if_ everything works out. We will discuss our takeoff pattern before we go to bed, until then, I need all of you – except Darekh, I need you with the General at all times – to assist in the ship's repair. And Raza, you will help the ship's Captain. He's specifically asked for a mechanic. To the others, don't fuck it up; none of us know anything about this ship, so do everything _exactly_ the way they tell you to. You fuck anything up, you spend the rest of your life enslaved to General Loish because frankly, the Resistance is never going to be able to pay for any damage you inflict on that ship. So", He pauses to look at each and every one of our grinning faces before he continues -

"Like I said, don't fuck it up."

* * *

I spend nearly four hours in the small, very hot, very sweaty, dark room beneath the cockpit of the ship, checking the whole entire wiring of all the ship's internal systems. Turns out - as the ship's Captain explains to me rather apologetically - the General is convinced the navigation systems are rigged and that the First Order is tracking them. Even after the Captain found nothing suspicious, the General insisted on another thorough check, without which he refused to let the ship take flight again. I find out that the "goddess" – as the ship has been lovingly nicknamed by the Resistance pilots - is supposed to as state of the art as an intergalactic spaceship can get. It's supposed to be undetectable. In a way, I understand the General's fear. He has his daughter on board for Kala's sake. And so I find myself cruelly imprisoned in a dungeon full of wires. The only time I get any kind of respite is the half hour we spend eating lunch outside in the forest. The sun is surprisingly mild and the breeze is deliciously cool on my sweat-drenched neck.

Snap comes over to me just as I've started munching on my second sandwich. He offers me a sip from the flask he's holding.

"It's good, I promise", he says in response to my hesitation. I take a sip. It's ice cold, which is a blessing in itself; but it's also the most delicious juice I've ever had and I can't help the slight moan that escapes my mouth. Snap only smirks.

"Gift from the General. I can't really pronounce the name, but it roughly translates to 'sky water'. It's made from a fruit found right at the top of the canopy of the forests on their planet. I'm assuming that's why it's called sky, I don't really know." He grins at me as I take two more sips.

"Are all your rescue missions this – "I ask, looking around at the others eating and talking. Dameron is talking to the Captain. He looks annoyed.

"Relaxed?" completes Snap. I nod.

"Not usually. I mean, it hasn't exactly been relaxed this time either. Everyone's been working their asses off. You, especially. But the threat of imminent death is – "

"Milder," I say, as he shrugs. We're silent for a few moments, each finishing their respective meals; he's lost in thought, probably remembering previous experiences. I take a few more sips of the glorious 'sky water' before heading back in to complete my apparently essential job. I don't understand why they asked for a mechanic specifically; anyone could've done what I'm doing. All it takes is basic skill in following blueprints. Which most pilots have anyway. I shake my head, steeling myself for the hours ahead I'm going to have to spend inside that blasted room.

Just as I'm about to leave, Snap says, "Be on your guard."

I stop and face him. "Something wrong?"

He hesitates. I get the feeling whatever he wants to tell me is way above my paygrade.

"There's just….. something fishy about the whole thing. The sooner we finish and get out of here the better. Also, if you do find anything - a tracker, bug, whatever – tell Dameron. Before you tell anyone else."

Then he leaves just as abruptly. I don't know what the fuck I've gotten myself into.

* * *

Night falls quickly on this planet - Kala knows what it's called - and the dense canopy above us only makes it harder for us to set up camp in the fading light. We each get our own, incredibly tiny, but surprisingly cozy, inflatable tents, specially designed to insulate whatever kind of weather we might be subjected to on this strange world. I go back to working on the infernal 'Goddess' as soon as I finish setting up my tent, while the others work on lighting a fire for the night.

Fortunately, I just have to finish up; there were no bugs, no trackers, no malfunctions within the ship that could've possibly led to the First Order finding and gunning them down. It seems more and more likely that they were betrayed by an informant. The Captain and I work quickly to check the navigation systems and the wards, one final time. It still takes around two hours, though and by the time I finish and finally step out, the others have finished all their discussions and started eating. Roshanna hands me two freshly unfrozen sandwiches for dinner, as has been rationed for each person. They aren't too bad. I feel exhausted and my throat itches, but at least there's food now.

Dameron goes over the plan for the morning while I'm still munching. I sit a little away from everyone else; just far enough that the fire warms up my front and a slight chill from the moist night air settles onto my back. The forest is quiet around us; wary from the disturbance we've caused it. I haven't seen a single animal, nor heard a single call since the time we've landed. I stare into the dark of the foliage until my head starts to spin a little. I turn to look at Dameron, who's practically whispering by this point. The fire dances off his cheeks, his eyes, his nose. I cough. He glances at me as he speaks. I realize I know absolutely fucking nothing about the plan for the next morning, or even what the others have been upto all day. I lean closer towards the fire.

"All right, then. Go to bed. Everyone set your watches for two hours before daybreak. Sleepyheads will be left behind, I'm warning you." He has an ever-so-slight smirk on his face when he says this, and turns directly towards me. I roll my eyes at him. We all bid each other good night, and enter our respective tents. I'm beyond exhausted and fall asleep as soon as my head hits the sleeping bag.

* * *

I wake up with a gasp.

I remember coughing as I fell asleep; I remember coughing while I was asleep but now I can barely breathe. I'm wheezing and flailing and for a second I think I'm going to die. The cozy tent suddenly feels claustrophobic; I feel my throat and I swear it's an inch thicker than before. Somehow I manage to calm myself, mentally of course; I'm still wheezing like my life depends on it and it fucking hurts; but I zip the tent open and crawl out. It's pitch black. I'm crawling around on the ground like a blind person, trying to feel for a tent, any tent, wheezing like I'm about to die –

Suddenly, I feel a hand on my head, patting me lightly and I hear a man's voice saying my name. I hear beeping and I realize it's BB-8. Dameron. I still can't see anything and I'm panicking and I can't understand a word of what he's trying to say. So he just scoops me up like a child and carries me into his tent. There's a click and yellow light fills the place. His tent is a lot bigger than mine, with space for equipment and blasters. He sets me on the sleeping bag and rummages around the heap of stuff placed at the foot of the bag.

He comes back with a syringe. I can hear BB-8 outside. Dameron looks me straight in the eye, pulls my right forearm towards him and pushes the needle into the crook of arm. It stings; but it's over quickly and he's rubbing my back as I just sit there and continue to wheeze for what feels like an hour.

"It'll take effect in four minutes, just wait, it's okay, you're okay." His voice is low but calm and five minutes later, I can breathe again.

"It was an allergy. General Loish warned me about it. It's fungal spores or some such. His daughter had the same reaction as you. Good thing we came prepared." He says, smiling kindly.

I feel my throat again. It's still swollen, but much less so. I never thought I'd ever be grateful for being able to breathe. I attempt a weak smile, but I don't risk actually talking. My shoulders slump in exhaustion and my eyes close for a brief moment.

"Go to sleep. Here. That way I can keep an eye on you. Don't worry about me, you can have the bed." His hand is still on my back. It's starting to feel less and less comforting. I realize how close we are to each other and how there's heat radiating from his palm that's spreading all across my lower back and without thinking, I lean into him. For a long moment, he allows it. My face is leaning into the crook of his neck and I can smell him; he smells of burnt wood, for some reason; he shifts a bit so he can hold me better. His hand moves to encircle my waist. I have to fight to stay awake.

The moment passes. He lets go and shifts away.

"You really need to sleep. Lie down. Really. Sleep."

He pushes me into the sleeping bag gently and sits down beside it. He pulls out some sort of gadget that opens up the flight plan.

"You need to sleep too," I manage to whisper.

"There's only two hours left. It's fine, I don't sleep much before flying. "

I must not look convinced, so he adds, "I'll sleep if I feel like it. Really, don't worry about me. Good night." He smiles, but the look in his eyes is peculiar. But he turns away. I stare at the ceiling of the tent and before I know it, darkness engulfs me.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

I'm awakened by BB-8. Dameron is nowhere to be seen. I step out of the tent, caressing my still-slightly-sore throat and I'm awash in deep, blood red. The sun still isn't visible but everything – the sky, the ground, the trees, the ships – everything is red. For a moment I'm just standing there, dumbstruck, while there are people all around, checking on the ships, clearing everything up. Roshanna comes up to me and hands me my toolbox, explaining that the Captain had been looking for me, but gave it to her when he couldn't find me and that he told her to thank me on his behalf, one last time. I nod, trying to gather my thoughts, but she's gone before I can say anything.

I'm not a pilot; after I put all my repair gear into the plane, I have nothing to prepare for and so I just wait beside Dameron's X-wing as the others scramble around, checking their fuel tanks and engines one last time before takeoff. I see General Loish shaking Dameron's hand, as he says something into his ear, probably thank you; Dameron then offers his hand to the General's daughter, who accepts it shyly. The others are getting onto their ships; Darekh salutes the General one last time before he straps himself in. The sky has turned orange by this time.

I'm staring at the 'Goddess' when I realize Dameron's making his way towards his ship. The great black ship has been emitting a steady hum that's getting louder and louder every minute. I can only assume they've switched the engines on; I remember the Captain telling me that it takes twenty five minutes to be ready for takeoff. The X-wings seem like puny toys in comparison. I take one last look at the ship before climbing into Dameron's plane. He's already there, readying everything for the journey ahead.

"Black Squadron, do you copy?"

I feel nervous because of how on edge he sounds; the others reply in the affirmative and he turns to me, his eyebrows raised in question.

"I'm ready," I say.

"All right, alpha 2,4, and 6, remember the plan, don't panic. Copy? Takeoff in 5….4…3….2….1".

And all four X-wings lift off at the same time. The Nebula 500 is still on the ground. My heart's racing and I don't know why the others shouldn't be panicking. Maybe it's something he always says. But I doubt it. Commander Dameron isn't the kind of man who panics.

"This is Commander Poe Dameron to RV 1618, come in".

There's no response.

"Commander Dameron to RV 1618, come in," he repeats, his voice calm, jaw clenched tight.

"This is RV 1618 to Black Squadron alpha 1, do you copy?" A familiar voice responds finally, and Dameron shuts his eyes for a brief moment. I realize he's talking to Jess; RV 1618 is the Resistance.

"Roger. Did General Organa get my message? Over." We're climbing higher and higher up; the other planes get farther away from us the higher we go. General Loish's ship still sits on the ground.

"Affirmative. The Base is ready, and on standby for the moment. Over." Jess replies over the comm.

"Alpha 2, 4 and 6, is the horizon clear?"

The star beyond the horizon is finally visible and turns the entire atmosphere a deep, golden yellow. It's so beautiful I have to force myself to look away. I turn to Dameron and see he's busy staring into the radar. We're too high up to even see the ground anymore. The plane speeds up and suddenly, we're thrust out into space. I can see Snap's plane speeding up as he moves further west. On the left, Roshanna's plane speeds up. Below us, the golden morning light spreads towards the west. We seem to be slowing down.

I can't stand it anymore.

"What in Kala's name is happening? Why is the base on standby? Where – "

Dameron cuts me off.

"We're waiting for Loish to take off. The rest of the squadron is just doing the routine checks, making sure we're in the clear. As for the base, I'll explain once Loish is in hyperspeed." Dameron sounds a lot calmer than my loud voice did and for a moment I feel reassured. Until I notice the muscle jumping in his clenched jaw.

Snap's voice crackles through. "The west is clear."

"East is clear, too," says Roshanna, almost immediately after.

Dameron lets out a breath.

"Copy. Nebula GL8, come in."

"This is Nebula GL8 to Black Squadron alpha 1. Over." The voice on the comm is unfamiliar to me but Dameron responds immediately.

"Clear orbit confirmed. Nebula is cleared for takeoff. Over."

"Copy. Nebula ready for takeoff in 5…4…3…2…1." Then the comm falls silent. I turn to Dameron.

"She'll be here in a few minutes. I've been looking forward to this," he says, before turning to look at me as he flashes me grin. I can't ignore the way my stomach swoops at this. I smile back but he's back to looking at the radar. We're both excited to see the ship in action, but he never really takes his eye off the monitors. I guess that's why he's survived this far. Constant vigilance. Suddenly Snap's voice calls out over the comm.

"Kriffing stars, you guys seeing this?"

He's the first to spot her, the 'goddess' we've all been waiting for; she emerges from the west, gleaming gold rings rotating so fast around the black body they appear to be still. There are blasters underneath and on the sides to help navigate its movement. Even the blasters are beautiful; their blue flames like the tail of a comet. Dameron lets out a soft whistle; we turn to look at one another, incredulous smiles on our faces. The Nebula floats past us in silence.

"Black Squadron alpha 1 come in, over."

Dameron clears his throat. "Roger. Nebula GL8 cleared for jump," he says, glancing at the monitors again.

"Thank you, Commander Dameron, and the Black Squadron, for your help and courage." This time it was the soft, deep voice of Loish speaking over the comm. "We will send word to the base as soon as we descend on Zelca. May we triumph over evil and may the Force be with you, always."

It's an old-fashioned way of bidding goodbye. The only other person I've heard use the phrase is Leia. And yet, there's something comforting about it. Dameron opens his mouth to respond but in a blink, the Nebula is gone; disappeared into the void of hyperspace.

"That bastard," he says, shaking his head. "All right folks, time to head home. I guess we have the Force to thank for keeping the First Order away. RV 1618, come in; we will be making the jump soon. Nebula is on its way home but I'd recommend you remain on alert."

"Copy. The Resistance will remain on alert. Over," says Jess, her voice crackling ever so slightly.

Dameron finally relaxes into his seat. He cracks his knuckles and shoots me another half-grin.

"Alright Black Squadron, jump to hyperspace in 5…4…3…2..."

* * *

"So _Commander,"_ I begin once the plane has settled into hyperspeed. Dameron shoots me a look. He adjusts something on one of monitors and then reaches for the bottle of water in the holder beside him.

"What in fucking stars was all that," I hesitate, trying to find the right word.

"Chaos?" Dameron says, as he offers me the bottle. I shake my head.

"No. Tension. It was almost like you were _convinced_ the First Order would show up."

He watches me as he takes a few gulps of water before answering.

"The damage to their ship was….. unusual. Clean. That was the first thing that tipped us off. The blasters had been taken off. The stabilizers were a bit hurt. But nothing that couldn't be fixed. All the essentials were intact. The engines, the navigation system. And the nuclear core . Hell, if the First Order really wanted to kill them all they had to do was aim at the nuclear generator. The Nebula isn't really built for anything other than travel."

"Snap told me there was something fishy about the whole thing." I feel my stomach knotting up. Please don't let Loish be a traitor.

"Yeah, and then we received intel that Captain Noug had been spotted at a bar frequented by Stormtroopers. On Killick." His voice is low. Great, not Loish, just his pilot then.

"Fuck. Fuck. So it was a trap? But we got out fine. And there were no bugs, no trackers. I checked everything. Twice."

"I know. I don't doubt that. Besides, what's the point of such an elaborate plan anyway? To trap a few X-wings? The only way this makes any sense if they're using us to track the location of the Base somehow. I don't know. It's just….. Odd. I hope to the Force we're wrong on this." He sighs, rubbing his face.

The Base is hidden. To the point where not everyone on Base even knows what galaxy it's in. The location changes every few weeks. Every signal that leaves Command is cloaked. Contacting it is near impossible for anyone outside of the Resistance and its allies. It's the only reason it's survived this far.

The knot in my stomach tightens further and the feeling of dread is so familiar, for a second I'm afraid it'll spiral and I'll be stuck in another of those episodes. My hand grips the armrest and Dameron turns to me, looking concerned and I realize this is the first time I'm feeling panicky because of a real life threat. Something shifts and I'm able to convince myself to breathe slower. The knot is still there, but I'm in control of the situation. Kind of.

"Are you alright?" His hand closes over mine.

"Yeah, I'm ok. Just go on talking."

All his attention is trained on me now and it's extremely distracting. Which is exactly what I need.

"So as soon as we get to Base, we're going to do another jump. At least, that's what I've recommended to the General. It's up to her. If she feels there is no immediate threat, we might not move. You know they've built a base on D'qar?" He doesn't leave my hand in all the time he speaks. I get the feeling he's done this before. It's both comforting and annoying, knowing that he's just doing his job as a fellow Rebel. I shake my head in answer to his question.

"Well, actually, I'm not supposed to be telling anyone about this, so if you tell _anyone_ , even Pava, I'm afraid I might have to kill you." His face is dead serious but there's a look in his eyes. I laugh. He smirks, and Kala, my head goes woozy again.

"How's your throat?" His hand on mine is suddenly really hot.

"It's fine." I cough. "Thank you. I'm ok now, really." His smile fades and he lets go, turning his attention to the monitors again. I feel bad.

"What about that base on D'qar again?"

He grins at that. "I've already said too much. You'll come to know, soon enough. If you stick around."

"I'll be around," I say. Because I don't exactly have anywhere else to go. But I don't say that out loud. Not to Commander Dameron, the poster boy of the Resistance.

"So, how long until we reach?" I had overheard Darekh telling Roshanna the journey was going to be shorter this time.

"Well, we're taking the jump from a different spot this time, so," he pauses, glancing at his watch, "Fifteen hours and twenty three minutes, to be exact".

"Motherfucker."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The hangar is absolute chaos.

When we land, there are droids of all kinds running around and mechanics rush to our planes. Pilots finish up the last of their repairs as their astromechs fill up the fuel tanks of their planes. A huge tank of hydrogen is carried past us. Certain sections are locked down as people brace for the worst. I've seen some bad times on base but this is full on panic. We're greeted by Frewell and the raven-haired man Findley, who offers us all water bottles as we're ushered out of the hangar to where the General is waiting for us.

We're all in the command centre; Black Squadron, the General, the Head of Intelligence, Holdo, Frewell, Karé and her team and a bunch of other people I don't recognize. M'thar, the Head mechanic is also there. I'm standing with the Black Squadron members, beside Jess, who greeted me with a wink when I first entered but hasn't said a word since; Dameron stands with his back to us, addressing the whole of Command. It's all a first for me.

"You're saying Loish was suspicious of foul play? He thought he was being tracked?" The Head of Intelligence, a short, pale woman with spiky red hair asks Dameron.

"Yes, he got our mechanic to go over all the ship's systems to check for trackers." His manner is calm, direct. General Organa glances towards us. The room is silent as a graveyard.

"And you found none?"

"No, ma'am."

"And the intel we received about the Captain? Noug?"

"Even if he did know, he never gave us any indication of it. And if he is directly involved – "

"Loish isn't the kind of man to willingly aid the First Order". Dameron is cut off by Holdo. She stands up, moving towards him as she continues. "But, we can't rule anyone out. Have we received word from him yet?"

Dameron shakes his head. "No ma'am, but the estimated time of his arrival is ninety six minutes from now."

Finally General Organa speaks. "M'thar, are the planes being scanned?"

"As we speak," comes M'thar's nasal voice.

She runs her hand over her face. "If we're being tracked, there's no point making the jump to a new location. We have no choice but to wait." She looks at M'thar.

"As soon as the scanning is over, I want to know. Any malfunctions, any bugs, any discrepencies. We can't rule anything out." He nods, saluting her before rushing off to the hangar. She turns to face all of us.

"Dameron, I want eyes on Loish. Let me know when he's out of hyperspace."

He turns to the nervous, raven-haired man and nods. "Findley, you're in charge." The man hastily salutes the General and makes his way to the communications centre.

She turns to her Head of Intelligence next. "June –"

"On it," the woman replies immediately and leaves. The General looks at Holdo. Holdo nods.

"Alright, everyone back to your stations. We will send word soon. Stay alert." Holdo announces to the room and people slowly start to shuffle out. I turn around, along with the rest of the Black Squadron and we hesitantly begin to walk towards the exit when Leia says, "Oh no, not you lot." Dameron looks slightly embarrassed at that.

"You stay here in Command and give me a play by play of the entire mission." She turns to Dameron. "Let's start with the mechanic."

* * *

I'm midway through narrating the events of the mission to General Organa and Dameron when I start doubting myself. I'm trying to describe, as accurately as possible, the dungeon-like room I spent most of my time in, when I realize I don't remember the exact number of times I went over the entire plan for the Nebula 500. Was it twice, or three times? Did I zone out at times? I must have. Did I miss anything? What if I did and the First Order has found Loish and blasted them to smithereens by now. I try not to think about his sweet, small daughter and focus on the General instead.

"Was Captain Noug with you the whole time you were in the control room?" She speaks fast; she seems like she's losing patience with the whole thing.

"No, I was alone. He handed over the blueprints to me, and tried to give me an idea of the way things were arranged down there and left. He said he had to go supervise the others".

"And there was no chance of anyone slipping in and out of the room, unnoticed?"

"There was only one small door and it was open the entire time. It was cramped, with all kinds of stuff hanging around; there was no way I wouldn't have known if someone had entered." I look at her and then at Dameron. "Also, if someone wanted to remove something they had installed in there, they had plenty of time to do it before we arrived".

The General nods. She looks at Dameron. She does not look pleased.

"With all due respect, General, I know you're not entirely convinced, and I know there's a small chance I'm wrong and that I'm reading too much into it – " He begins, his hands emphasizing what he verbally cannot.

The General cuts him off. "A small chance? I know the intel makes the situation suspicious, but we have found nothing. No physical device by which they could find us". She's not dismissive or harsh; she talks almost as though to an equal. She's trying to reason with him. And maybe even herself.

"I know. I know and I'll be relieved if I am wrong. But I feel it in my gut. I felt it there. And I've trusted this instinct and it's kept me alive. You know what I'm talking about". He looks right at her and she almost looks convinced.

"The First Order _has_ been trying to find us for years. We can't afford to take a chance". She addresses both of us now. "Alright Raza, you're dismissed. Next I want to talk to the person who shadowed Loish", and with that, she turns and walks away towards her office. The others are seated on the other side of the room along with Karé. I look at Dameron and he's staring at one of the navigation monitors, his mind clearly on other things.

Just as I'm walking away he calls out, "Where are you going?"

I turn around. "I gotta go report to my boss".

He looks confused so I add, "M'thar". He nods.

"Let me know if you find something".

"I will," I reply.

"Also," he looks at me with a hint of that infuriating smirk of his, "How does the General know your name?"

I should pretend to be offended at this; I could ask him why he thinks the General shouldn't be expected to know the name of a lowly mechanic, but I know he doesn't mean it like that.

"Long story", I say.

"Once we're out of this mess", he replies before making his way to the others.

* * *

"You went off-base! And you never informed any of us! You couldn't have left a message? Just when we were short on people, that too. Walda's cargo ship came up. She wanted a full-body update." M'thar pauses as he stops before a droid and transfers data from it onto his tablet. That bloody Jess. If only she'd told him. Or one of the other mechanics. I should've reminded her. And now I'm stuck, being scolded like a child as I follow my boss around the hangar. And Kala, he's relentless.

"Do you know what a headache it is, running this place?" He continues, unplugging his tab from the droid and walking ahead. I sigh in resignation. He doesn't hear me.

"If even one ship falls apart, it's on my head. One blaster doesn't work and I get pulled up. And all these new recruits, all they want to do is become pilots. And now the General wants me to scan these X-wings and I have to keep other ships ready, all weapons ready".

"I'm sorry, Sir, I should've told you – "

I try to interrupt, but he isn't even looking at me. We stop before Roshana's X-wing. An astromech comes up to us and beeps out something in binary. M'thar says "Alright," and the droid disappears underneath the plane. He turns to look at me.

"And some janitor came up to me, asking about you, saying something about morning shift", he says, his sing-song accent much more pronounced than usual.

"I am deeply sorry, Sir. It was a code red and we just left immediately, but I should've sent a message. It won't happen again." I try to look ashamed. He buys it.

"Next time, don't add to my troubles. Go find Desira, she's changing Karé's blasters".

* * *

Fortunately for me, Desira is nearly done by the time I get to Karé's ship.

I'm exhausted, and hungry and irritable and all I want to really do is go to my quarters and sleep. But I can't. So I sit and answer Desira's many questions about Commander Dameron. She wants to know what we talked about, what he carries with him on missions, what he's like when he's flying his plane and oh, did he mention anything about Vana?

I try to answer her as faithfully as I can without really giving her any details whatsoever. This is the first time we've actually talked, beyond what was required of us as colleagues. Which is mostly my fault; I'm not the friendliest person there is. Even now, my replies are short and discouraging, but she persists. I guess spending time with Dameron has suddenly made me a lot more interesting.

She walks with me to the canteen, narrating the story of how Vana, the Blue Squadron pilot and Dameron almost had a _thing,_ and that Vana is still madly in love with him and everyone thinks that Dameron is too, he's just scared of commitment. Dameron doesn't seem like the kind of person who'd be afraid of commitment of all things, but I pretend to agree. I've heard too many stories of people Dameron almost had a _thing_ with. I look up at the clock in the mess hall; twenty minutes until Loish is out of hyperspace.

I pick up some food and sit down at one of the tables. Desira brings us both a cup of coffee each. She eventually tires of Dameron and starts talking about other things. She tells me stories about people on base I've seen but never spoken to and people I've never heard or noticed. I'm reminded of my mother's disdain for gossip, but I don't mind it. It's really one of the only sources of entertainment on base. Besides alcohol and sabacc.

I'm actually starting to enjoy our conversation when Jess walks in with Dameron.

"I told you she'll be here," she says, pointing towards us. The place is nearly empty and her voice carries across. She comes over and plonks herself beside me.

"What were you guys laughing about?" asks Jess.

Dameron walks over with two cups of coffee and sits down beside Desira. She shoots me a look of mild panic. I wink at her. Dameron slides one of the cups over to Jess.

"This is all a fucking disaster. All this waiting, going over the same shit again and again. Getting chewed out by your boss. Kriffing stars. Give me a ship to blow up, any day," he mutters, before taking a sip.

Everyone sips on their coffee in silence.

"I got chewed out by my boss and my boss's boss. Beat that," I say.

Jess snorts into her cup. Dameron looks at me, a hint of a smile on his face. I feel that weird swoop in my stomach again.

"I can imagine M'thar going on and on with that voice of his," Jess begins, giggling, when a loud beeping breaks out. Dameron takes his pager out of his pocket.

"We gotta go," he says, standing up. Jess drains her coffee in one sip. Desira and I look at each other. Jess stands up. Dameron stares at me.

"What're you doing?" He blurts out.

Oh.

I hurriedly get up, say thanks to Desira and follow Jess and him out of the mess hall.

* * *

The Resistance has sent out a transmission to the Nebula 500. Command has fewer people than before, with most of the other Squadrons ready and waiting in the hangar for further instruction. The Head of Intelligence is also absent. All of Black Squadron is there though, with Holdo and Frewell. The General stands at the central communications panel.

"RV 1618 to Nebula GL8, come in. Over," Findley says into the comm for the second time. There is no response. It feels like everyone is holding their breath.

"RV 1618 to Nebula – "

"This is Nebula GL8 to RV 1618, do you copy," a smooth, female voice interrupts him.

"Copy. This is RV 1618. Have you made it to Zelca? Over."

Dameron and the General exchange a look. My pulse picks up.

"We're still four hours out. But we've entered the Yorne system and have established communication with Zelca. We're safe. Now, General Loish requests access to General Organa. Over."

I let out a breath. There's a click and a hologram of Loish is illuminated on the comm panel. He faces the General.

"General Loish, I'm glad to see you safe," she says, smiling.

"Thanks to the Resistance, my daughter and my crew are alive. I am indebted." General Loish bows. I wonder if he can see the whole room or only Leia. She smiles once again and is about to say something, but he cuts her off.

"However, I'm deeply sorry to tell you that you are in danger. You are being traced by the First Order as we speak. We caught our Captain attempting to send out an unauthorized transmission. He was contacting them. We have arrested him".

My stomach churns in dread. People start whispering, moving about. Dameron's face is unreadable.

Loish continues. "After much interrogation, he admitted that he informed on us. He planted a tracker on you."

"We have checked everything, none of our planes have anything on them – "

General Organa is cut off by him once again.

"It's a cloaked binary signal. He says he gave it to your mechanic".

Silence drops over the room like an anchor in the sea. Everyone single person turns around to look straight at me.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

My mind goes blank. People start talking, I can see Leia saying something to Loish's hologram, I think Holdo's saying something to me, but nothing registers. Dameron walks towards me, followed by Jess and for a second Holdo doesn't let them; then Dameron says something to her and she moves aside. He stands right in front of me. I can see his mouth move but I can't make sense of what he says.

He grabs me by the shoulders and shakes me.

"He never gave me anything", I hear myself say. He waits, his hands still on me. My throat feels very dry.

"I'm not a traitor". My voice is small; but he hears me. He pats my shoulders, then steps back, his eyes soft.

"I know. But you have to think. What did he give you that might have a tracker in it?" He speaks low and fast. I realize the General's right beside him. I turn to her.

"I never even met him before we took off. I was sick and when I woke up everyone was running around and Roshana came up to give me food and my toolbox and then I just –" I'm stumbling over the words, when it comes to me. It's almost like knock on the head.

"The toolbox," I say. There's silence.

"He must have put it in my toolbox". My voice is louder now, and a lot more panicked.

The General nods. "Go get it".

I run out of Command as fast as I can.

* * *

M'thar, the General and Holdo stand around staring at the tiny, watch-like device in M'thar's hand. It's blue in colour with a pulsating face and I had found it right at the bottom of my toolbox, inside the case of magnetic screws. There was great confusion in Command, right after Loish's incriminating announcement, but the General soothed the panic with practiced ease. We've made the jump, now that the tracker has been identified and disabled by our genius Head Mechanic. Everyone else left after Holdo announcement to the Base - that the threat had been disable - and the only ones remaining are Dameron and his team and me. And I don't have a good feeling about what's to come.

Leia is strangely excited about the tracker. Holdo doesn't seem too impressed.

"But it's just a binary signal, that's hardly new technology," she tells M'thar.

M'thar stuffs it into his pocket. "Yes, the signaling pattern is simple enough. What I've disabled is merely the outgoing signal", he says, moving away from them. "But, the cloaking mechanism and the transmission is through quarks".

The General nods. Everyone else stares in uncomprehending silence.

"It's quantum transmission! This stuff is expensive. I can't believe the First Order just dropped one into our lap!" He grins around at everyone. Then his face turns sober.

"General, what would you like me to do with this?"

General Organa gives her famous half-smile. "For now, study it. We'll find a good use for it."

M'thar salutes her and leaves, radiating a new sense of purpose.

"General", says Holdo and leaves as well.

It's just us now. Waiting like schoolchildren for the Principal's punishment. Leia takes her time settling into a chair. Dameron is in front of us all, as usual. Then, she looks up at us and sighs.

"Well, good job getting Loish home. And good work Dameron, your instincts saved all of our lives. There was chaos, but then that's unavoidable. However," she pauses, surveying us, the look on her face hardening, "Next time you think you've got a tracker planted on you, don't come back till you find it." With that she turns around and puts on a large pair of headphones. We shuffle out of Command in silence. I'm surprised we got off so easy. I'm surprised _I_ got off so easy.

Apparently not.

Just as we're reaching the dorms, Dameron turns on me.

"Do you realize what you could've cost us?" His voice is low and angrier than I'd ever care to see. The others quietly move past us. We stop just outside mine and Jess' quarters. Jess shoots me a sympathetic glance before she enters. The door shuts. It's just Dameron and me, standing in the corridor. I say nothing.

"You didn't even _think_ to check the toolbox? You do know standard protocol on rescue missions, right?"

I did know standard protocol, I'd heard Jess complain about it too many times; no one re-enters the Base after contact with outsiders without a thorough scan of their ships. And the equipment inside it.

"You realize that kind of carelessness gets people killed".

He's looking right at me but I can feel tears prick my eyes and I focus on a spot on the floor. It's ridiculous. The only thing that could make this worse is me bursting into tears like a child.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize –"

"Damn right you didn't". He cuts me off. He runs his hand through his hair, sighing. He doesn't look so angry anymore. He looks guilty, if anything. Because at the end of the day, he is responsible. I feel like sinking into the floor and never showing my face to him again, but that's impossible. So I do what I can.

"I'm sorry, Commander Dameron," I say. "It won't happen again". I look straight at him. He stares back for a moment then relents.

"Alright, go on, you're dismissed," he says. "Don't fuck it up next time".

It hurts to hear him say that, especially because I did fuck it up. If the First Order had in fact showed up, it would've been my fault. I had one, small job and I didn't do it properly and it could've cost the Resistance big time.

I open the door to my room; Jess is already fast asleep. Just as I'm about to enter, Dameron says, "And cadet –" waiting for me to turn around before continuing, "I told you not to call me Commander."

It's a peace offering. His voice is kinder than it was earlier. I offer a salute in return and he smirks, before sauntering off towards the officer's quarters. This is how it is. You fuck up, you get told off. It's not personal. Kala knows this isn't the first time I'm being told off. But it's the first time I end up crying after.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Three days go by before I see Poe Dameron again.

It isn't just him though; I've barely even spoken to Jess ever since we got back. Black Squadron has been on patrol duty after some of the Red Squadron ships came back with horrendous damage. No one knows what their mission was, not even M'thar. All I know is I haven't eaten three whole meals in what feels like weeks. Between my shifts in the hangar and the toilets - serving the two most understaffed departments of the Resistance – and fending off near constant hunger, I almost forget my last encounter with the Commander.

On the morning of the fourth day, however, Jess wakes me up before she leaves for duty.

"Grey Squad's taking over patrol tomorrow, so we'll be drinking tonight. You'll come, right?"

I sit up. She takes my silence for hesitation and huffs.

"You know all of them now, please don't tell me you're still shy".

I am still shy but I shrug it off. "It's not that; I have the evening shift in the hangar toilets. I can't ask Lou to cover for me because he already did before and he was not happy about it. I owe him".

Her face falls.

"I'll try finishing early. You'll be up till late, right? I'll join you," I add hurriedly.

"Promise?"

"I promise".

She leaves then, grinning, and I crawl back underneath my blanket, already regretting my words.

* * *

After a whole day spent bent over X-wings, the simple scrubbing and washing of bathrooms feels like leisure. I'm actually looking forward to meeting Jess and the others now, if only for the alcohol. I'm usually happy cleaning toilets, alone and dreaming of a time when the fate of thousands of people did not rest on the fact that I forgot to check my toolbox. Evenings in the hangar, however, are much busier and people come and go. Some of them linger at the mirrors for longer than usual; it takes me a while to realize they recognize me from Command. But all the staring eventually gets to me and now all I want to do get back into my room and sleep. Or cry.

As I'm finishing up, Jess comes running in. Kriff. I was hoping to slip away to my room before she could find me. The last thing I want to do now is meet more people. But she seems to have other things on her mind.

"I need your help," she says hesitantly.

"Spit it out".

"Garth got really drunk and puked all over the hangar floor". She looks embarrassed. I burst out laughing.

"Ew. Already? Okay, take that mop. Let me fill up the bucket".

She starts telling me about the crazy sabbacc game they just played; one where Snap gambled away an entire week's worth of dessert to Karé and Dameron came close to beating everyone but Garth won and he started to dance around them in victory and promptly vomited all over the floor.

"Are you drunk?" I ask her.

"Not drunk enough to unsee that", she says, shaking her head in disgust.

Just before we enter the hangar, she stops me.

"Listen, I know you don't always feel comfortable around us". She moves towards me until we're backed into shadow. Over her shoulder, I can see a few droids and two people working on a plane; there's no one else around.

"I'm comfortable – "

She cuts me off. "You know what I mean. You just went on your first mission off-base! Yeah you got yelled at but, if you ask me, you're not really to blame. It was your first time, they didn't brief you, you didn't even know all the details, so don't blame yourself for what happened, okay? Besides, I've done stuff that's _way_ worse. And so have the others. And Dameron? You ask _him_ the number of times Leia's threatened to demote him," she huffs.

She is definitely not sober. I don't say anything. Then her face clouds over.

"I know it's not the same for you". Her voice is low. "Why we're here; it's different from why you're…." she trails off. I still don't say anything.

"But they're good people. And they like you; Dameron was asking about you. Even Snap. Just give them a chance".

"Okay". My reply is soft but she hears it.

She hands me her mop, takes the bucket from my hand and grinning wide, she marches off. Force knows what I've gotten myself into.

* * *

We reach the X-wing lot; it's empty save for a very irritated Karé.

"Thank the stars. I can't look at this anymore," she says as we approach. Just a few feet behind her is the aforementioned puddle of puke and Jess and I get to work.

"Dameron and Snap went to drop him off. The idiot was already drunk when we started. He was close to passing out after you left". She says, more to Jess than me.

"Poor guy. He really doesn't do off days well", replies Jess as she's pouring the disinfectant. I vaguely remember her mentioning how Garth drank too much and everyone thinks it's because of some mission that went bad, but really it had always been a problem. I'd heard he was a solid pilot though. Karé turns around on her stool to watch us. She's staring right at me when I look up. I offer a small smile. She doesn't smile back; she continues to look at me; it's not hostile, but it is unsettling. I continue cleaning. When I turn back her attention is elsewhere.

There's a sudden echo of laughter and we're joined by Snap and Dameron.

"Raza! Finally," Snap calls out; Dameron tips his head in greeting, saying nothing.

I offer a salute in reply. I'm embarrassed and unsure and my stomach flutters at the sight of him. I decide then and there that I am not going pay this stupid fucking infatuation any more attention, whatsoever.

I pour more disinfectant on the freshly cleaned spot.

Karé stands up. "Let's go someplace else. It stinks here."

Jess drops the mop into the bucket. "We'll drop these off back at the toilets – "

"Leave it," says Dameron. "The droids will clear it up. With Garth out of the way - " he smiles almost wickedly – "I believe you all owe me a victory".

Karé wins the first two games of sabbacc. Dameron is understandably flustered but Snap assures me that this always happens.

Everyone abandons the third round in favour of the brand new bottle of Corellian whiskey that Snap brings. We're all seated on the floor right near the clear glass opening of the landing strip. I've just realised that I've been drinking on an empty stomach and try to pace it out but Jess is having none of it. She pours me another and shoves it into my hands. I hear Karé saying we should continue the game.

"Drink!" She orders me. Then she turns to the others. "I think I've lost enough already. You've won both rounds Kun, show us some mercy". I can't help agreeing with her. I've lost dessert worth two meals and money as well. And my head's starting to go woozy. That whiskey is strong as hell.

"Wait!" Snap sits up. "We still have our clothes," he says, a triumphant smile spreading on his face. Jess groans. Karé shoots him a look.

"You're drunker than I thought".

"Lets do it! It's been a while".

"Yeah, coz last time Yunn caught the two of you running around in the hangar stark naked – "

"That was one time!" Dameron protests while Snap flushes red in indignation. I can't help laughing.

Karé cocks an eyebrow. "It's literally every time, Dameron. You really suck at this game".

"I second that," says Jess, nodding drowsily.

"Well, then, you've got nothing to lose. Snap, deal". Dameron sets his glass aside, his face all serious now. Everyone else reluctantly shifts closer into a circle; Jess actually grumbling as she moves. I realize I'm expected to play as well but just the thought of stripping in front of him or fucking worse, _him_ stripping makes my face burn. When I don't move, Dameron, who has thus far barely said a word to me, looks over. He's got that infuriating smirk on.

"Scared, cadet?"

Fuck him.

"From what Karé says, you're the one who's got something to be scared about". I scoot over to sit beside Jess. Karé gives me an approving smirk.

"Is that how it is?" Now Dameron's looking right at me. "You know what, let's play ladies versus the gentlemen. What do you say, buddy?" Snap laughs in reply.

"You're just setting yourself up for nakedness, Dameron," Karé snorts.

"We'll see," he replies, his eyes still on me. It's making my stomach flutter again. But there's no chance in hell I'm ever letting him know that, so I just smirk right back at him.

Jess takes the first hand. Dameron takes off his jacket. I take the next. He takes off his shirt. Snap takes the third hand. We lose our jackets. Karé wins the next round and the guys are in their boxers. Jess snickers as she shuffles the deck.

"You sure you want to go on?"

"Deal the damn cards, Pava," Dameron says, taking a sip from his glass as he leans back. The ring hanging on the chain around his neck catches the light and I can't help staring at the golden skin it lies against. And the collarbones. And his neck. Fucking hell, I don't dare look up further. I look at Snap, who seems unsure.

"Poe".

"Relax, Wexley. I got this".

I try to focus on my cards. They're terrible. If we lose this round, I'll have to take my shirt off. If we win, well, may the Force help me.

Karé takes the hand anyway. "Happy?" She sounds bored. Jess cackles. Snap glares at Dameron, who comically enough, looks flustered again.

"How the fuck…. I had such good cards!"

She shakes her head and then drains her glass. "Go ahead, boys". I don't look up from my glass as I drink. The hangar is deathly silent by now; Jess' drunken snickering is the only sound I hear. Snap swears at some point.

"Hurry up, you're embarrassing the mechanic".

My eyes don't leave the glass as I place it back on the floor. Jess laughs even louder. When I finally dare to look up, Snap is already making his way out.

"Fuck you, buddy," he calls out, his middle finger pointing toward us, bum waggling as he walks. Dameron meanwhile, is trying to reach for his jacket with one hand, while simultaneously covering his crotch with the other. Jess snatches it out of the way, cackling like a witch. It's the first time I've seen Karé smile.

"Come on!" He throws one hand up. I try not to stare at the other.

"Go on, Commander," Jess winks at him.

"I don't want Yunn catching me again".

"That's your problem". Karé yawns as gets up. She collects Snaps clothes and pats Dameron's shoulder. I can't help but laugh at this point, even though my cheeks feel hotter than ever.

"It's – It's cold, okay?" He's almost pleading by this point.

"Your problem," she repeats.

"Fuck you," he says and then turns around and walks away, swaying ever so slightly. I almost feel bad for staring.

"So," Jess turns to me, giggling. "Enjoy the show?"

 **Disclaimer: This chapter is heavily (I mean HEAVILY) inspired by the strip Sabacc scene from 'Earning My Wings' by warqueenfuriosa. It's got some extra bits and it is certainly not half as good as hers is but it was too fun an idea to not include in the story. Shout out to her fic (seriously, you need to check it out), it's been a great inspiration for my story.**

 **Reviews are most welcome!**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Jess and I sit brooding over our coffees at breakfast the next day. I feel drained to my core and the thought that I have to go to _work_ in a while has made me very cranky. It doesn't help that Jess keeps complaining about the noise in the mess hall every three minutes.

"That whiskey was some strong shit," I say, taking another bite of dry toast.

Jess snorts into her cup. "It was," she looks up as if reminiscent. "Worth it. Especially since I got to watch you go gaga over Dameron's ass".

I groan out loud. "Fuck. You".

She winks. "Don't deny it". She's enjoying this a little too much, hangover all forgotten. I shake my head and gulp down the coffee.

"Hey, don't worry about it; he was checking you out too".

I nearly choke.

Once my coughing subsides – aided by Jess patting my head like you would a dog – I try to seem unaffected.

"That's bullshit".

She obviously isn't buying the act. She's about to say something but I know that look in her eyes and I'm torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to smack her. Fortunately, my pager beeps.

"Duty calls. Sorry". I get up, picking up my cup and plate.

"You're not getting away from this so easily," she says.

I pretend like I haven't heard her. "You're so lucky you're off today", I tell her, patting her cheek before I turn.

"This conversation is not over!" She calls out from behind as I walk away.

* * *

M'thar seems even more harried than usual.

I can't blame him; I'm at the hangar, in the bay where the injured Red Squadron X-wings have been docked and there are a grand total of two mechanics working on them. Flight Admiral Yunn's been pressuring him to get the planes in the air within the next two days, and that, he informs me, is Bantha shit. He said a lot besides that but I haven't been paying attention; I'm trying hard _not_ to think about my conversation with Jess. He goes on.

"Two of my mechanics are sick. Two! And the pilots? They're off training! It's ridiculous. They damn near destroy their ships and leave it to us to fix them. And these look like they've gone through a damned solar flare. And no one wants to tell us what the bloody cause was!" He's typing away on his tablet as he talks to me. We stop in front of the one I've been working on. He pauses.

"Well?"

"I'm done, sir. You can take a look. I've fixed the blasters, stabilisers, the lateral thrusters. The tail needed some fixing but I figured one of the droids could do that".

He frowns and hands me the tablet.

"Oh, and some of the aluminium coating has worn off, but that also needs a droid," I add.

He walks around the plane, examining it; he peers into the thrusters, then climbs into the cockpit and rotates the blasters. Finally, he puts in the master chip and switches on the ignition. There's a slight hum that builds as the plane gears up, and then dies down just as suddenly; he's removed the chip. When he steps out, he's still frowning.

"You did this?"

Kriff. What have I done now. Still, I've been scolded by him so many times now, I'm practically immune.

"I had some help," I say quietly.

"From?"

"Droids".

His frown shifts to an expression that seems almost impressed. Or at least, as close to impressed as M'thar the genius can possibly be. He nods.

"Good," is all he says, taking the tablet from me. I try to bite down a smile. This is definitely a first. Is he going to reward me with an off-day?

"Since you've finished early, you can go work on Dameron's X-wing. He specifically asked for you".

Yep. The only reward a mechanic ever receives is more work. But it's Dameron's X-wing; I don't remember it being in terribly bad shape. I might even get done early. And despite the decision I made to quash this nonsense, I can't help feeling a tiny thrill at the prospect of seeing him. Then I remember sabacc and I'm not so sure if I can face him again, not so soon. I don't know what he might see in my face. Especially after what Jess just said. I know she's messing with me; she has to be; half the bloody base is in love with him. It's ridiculous that I'm even considering the idea.

"Waiting for an invitation, are we?" My boss calls out.

I shake my head and hurriedly leave the bay, not wanting to piss him off so soon after getting into his good books.

* * *

Dameron is seated on the hood of his X-wing, chewing on starfruit when he spots me walking towards him.

"Morning, cadet," he says, jumping down onto the ground. He pauses before me, scanning my face. "You don't seem hungover at all".

"Neither do you," I reply. And he really doesn't; his dark eyes glint as his mouth twists ever so slightly into a smile. I try to push away the sudden mental image of him strolling down the hangar, butt-naked.

"I have a robust system. You should see Snap". He gives no indication of wanting to move away.

"Robust enough to survive yesterday's game, huh?" I take a chance.

He laughs. "Karé and her blasted cards. We'll have a rematch soon enough, don't worry. You looked like you were having fun, though". I have a slight feeling he's making fun of me. I decide to take it at face value.

"I had a lot of fun, thanks," I reply, pulling my hair into a ponytail.

He looks extremely amused. "Good. Starfruit?" He holds one out to me.

"No, thank you. You called for me?" I'm surprised at my own composure.

He searches my face for a moment more and then suddenly moves to the nose of the plane. "Remember when you said you'd fix my hyperdrive unit?"

I have no idea what he's talking about. "Your hyperdrive's broken?"

He raises his eyebrows. "No, but it does cause the plane to shudder rather brutally when it's making the jump. And you offered to fix what no one's been able to fix so far".

I nod, remembering the violent jerking we had to endure for almost thirty seconds after phasing in and out of hyperspace. I don't know why I offered to fix it; I feel like an idiot now. I haven't the slightest clue what to do.

"Right. I remember," I say, "But if you're serious about this, you need to give me time. I might need to completely disable the unit first".

He shrugs. "I don't have anything coming up until two days from now. Take your time". Just then, BB-8 rolls over to his foot, beeping rapidly. "Oh, BB-8's offering to help, he can translate the program for you, if you like".

I can't help smiling at the droid. It's one of the cutest ones around. "Thanks, BB-8".

It beeps at me. Dameron looks slightly sheepish as he runs a hand through his hair.

"You know, I finished my work early. If it wasn't for you, I might have been able to sneak off today," I tell him, trying to sound chastising. I don't know where this sudden confidence has sprung from.

He shakes his head. "Well, as a superior officer, I don't think I can allow stuff like that, anyway". I pretend to roll my eyes. He moves a step closer, leaning his shoulder against the plane.

"As a superior officer – " I start.

He cuts me off. "I should actually be interrogating you on your forbidden plans," he says, his eyes warm. My pulse jumps; Kriff, what is this?

"Is it forbidden to catch a few hours of much needed sleep on this base?"

He grins at my reply; we're much closer than I realised and I can see the crinkles in the corner of his eyes. It's almost like he doesn't remember how the previous mission ended; he didn't say more than ten words to me yesterday and I was expecting our next encounter to be formal, maybe even cold; I was not expecting this. Kriff, it's almost like he _wants_ to talk to me.

I panic; I take a step back and move towards the hood.

"I should get to work," I tell him. Some of the light in his eyes dies. He looks down, peeling another starfruit.

"I'll be around. Let me know if you need anything".

And with that, he saunters off, leaving the hangar a little colder than before.

* * *

I spend two hours reading up on the hyperdrive.

I get a lot of help of BB-8; the droid translates articles written in other languages, helps source obscure manuals written by engineers from unknown galaxies. I don't know what kind of database it has access to but it is extensive. He even finds a video that explains what hyperspace is and the physics behind space travel. It's not new information but I watch it anyway. It reminds me of my father. Which reminds me of the lessons I got at school; how terrible some of them were and the things we'd do to avoid them. The trouble we got into all the time. And before I know it I'm stuck in my head again, trying to make sense of fading memories. For a second I can't remember the name of the principal of my school.

BB-8 beeps in alarm as I just sit there, frozen, pushing my mind to remember. It takes too fucking long, but I finally do. Sumi. That was her name. I breathe out and try to get back to work. I crawl underneath the X-wing, lugging my toolkit along. As I'm opening it up, I'm reminded of what Dameron said; how he would sometimes forget the way his mother looked. I'd never forgive myself if I forgot even the smallest detail. I'm the last one and if I forget; well, then they might as well had never existed.

* * *

It's past dinner by the time I finish.

Dameron had stopped by once before lunch to check in on my progress and to inform me that he was off to train the new recruits and that I should page him if I needed anything. I was, however, visited by BB-8 several times during the day which leads me to believe that Dameron doesn't fully trust me with his plane. I don't blame him; I was just as protective of my bike back home. He finally turns up dressed in a grey vest, curls ruffled, flight suit tied around his waist, smelling of cologne laced with sweat. He's also skeptical when I explain how I fixed the hyperdrive. None of this helps my nerves.

"I'm pretty sure we checked the inertial dampers the last time we did a full body scan. There wasn't anything wrong," he says. BB-8 beeps out in what I assume is agreement.

"Maybe it wasn't so bad then. But there were parts inside that were fully rusted. You see these coils?" I point to the copper coils in the junk tray kept beside the X-wing. They're flaking and splitting; clear signs of over-usage. "They should've been replaced a long time ago".

He shrugs. "Only one way to know for sure".

As he climbs into the cockpit my gut clenches with the sudden dread that I've made some terrible mistake somewhere and when he makes the jump the engines will malfunction and –

"This is Black Leader requesting permission for test flight". His voice is smooth and unperturbed. BB-8 slots himself into the plane.

"Yes, I know it's late, Deirdre. I just need twenty minutes, I promise. Fucking stars, no that's not why –" He shuts his eyes and shakes his head. It would be funny if only my mind wasn't swimming with images of his plane falling apart or blowing up.

"Thank you!" He calls out suddenly, and the hatch shuts. I can no longer hear him. The X-wing slowly taxies away toward the runway and all I can do now is pray to Kala and the Force and whatever other gods are out there to not let Poe Dameron die.

* * *

I spend the longest twenty minutes of my life watching cleaning droids wash the hangar floor.

As ridiculous as it sounds, the gentle swishing of their mops and the glossiness of the floor slowly vanishing as it dries is calming. The hangar is emptying of people, slowly but surely; by the time they announce Dameron's landing, I'm the only one left on my side of the bay.

I sigh loudly as his plane enters the hangar. I can see him taking his helmet off. The whirr of the engine dies down as the hatch of the cockpit is thrown open. He is beaming. I smile back. I feel weak.

"You did it!" He booms out. He jumps out, sweat gleaming on his forehead, looking incredulous.

"I told you. You didn't trust me," I say. His energy is infectious.

"Well, I wouldn't say that. But count me impressed. Stars, that was fucking smooth!"

My face heats up as he comes closer until we're nearly toe to toe.

"Are you sure? It was fine while entering _and_ exiting? The navigation is fine right? You aren't just saying this coz you don't want me touching your plane again and you really just went for a normal run and – "

"Hey". He puts a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it. I freeze. "It all worked like a charm. You fixed it. I'll take you on a ride sometime if you don't believe me".

My heart races but I manage to scoff at his lofty offer. He smirks. His hand is warm and distracting and still on my shoulder.

"Dameron".

We both jerk back. His hand falls away as he turns to the source of the sound.

It's Karé. She's in her flight suit, her astromech at her heels. She has a strange look in her eyes as she approaches us which is quickly replaced by her usual poker face. She cocks her eyebrows at Dameron.

"You're wanted at Command. You were supposed to be there as soon as you touched down – "

"I know. I'm coming." He interrupts, more than a little annoyed. He places his helmet on a stool nearby. He looks up at her.

"Go on then, I'm right behind you".

Kare looks at me and then back at him. Then she turns and walks away towards the exit.

Dameron sighs. "I'll see you tomorrow, then".

I nod. He runs his hand through his curls, brow furrowed in thought. He starts to walk away and then turns abruptly, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Good job, cadet".

"Commander". I salute. Now it's his turn to scoff.

 **So. I'm not the best at updating stories. But I'm gonna try doing better from now on.**

 **I had already posted this chapter earlier but this version seemed a bit more in tune with the characters, to me at least. The last two chapters have been pretty relaxed so far, but I'm hoping to pick up the pace once more.**

 **Reviews are most welcome!**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

I spend the next few days immersed in the bowels of a Red Squadron X-wing.

It's so badly damaged I'm surprised the pilot survived and then I hear that actually, he's been unconscious ever since his return and doctors aren't too sure if he'll make it. And I don't really want to work on it anymore. But I have to, because buying another X-wing is out of the question and the guy who was originally working on it has caught the strange flu-like illness that's taken a lot of people on base out of commission.

I haven't seen Jess since the morning after the night of Sabacc. I only know she's still on Base by the snoring lump I see occupying her bed, every morning when I leave the room for work. This happens sometimes; she's probably busy training new recruits.

I haven't seen her boss around either; but I've been trying not to think about it.

Today I hope to finish – _finally -_ the critically damaged X-wing and move on to other, perhaps more interesting pursuits. By mid-day I'm at the last bit – the altimeter, it's simple enough – and I feel positively chipper at the thought of being done early when I hear a familiar voice booming out behind me. My stomach does the usual rise, twist and fall and my good mood flies out the window faster than light.

"Raza!" Another voice calls out.

I turn around to see Jess leading Dameron and six other people towards me. She's smiling brightly, he's smirking as usual and I try to seem happy about the interruption. The strangers – recruits, I'm guessing by their colours – stare around the hangar bay – in all it's broken-machine-malfunctioning-droid glory - in awe. It's more than a little funny.

"Commander. Jessika". I nod to each of them in turn. .

Dameron turns to the students. "Cadets, meet Cadet Raza".

The students all give me a tiny salute at that and I salute in reply. I'm leaning against the ship. Jess walks over to stand next to me. Dameron stands a little away, the students gathered around him.

"Today you will try to familiarize yourself with the X-wing here in front of you. Go ahead and check everything out, the blueprints are with Zhaka, I think," - Dameron furrows his brows at the good-looking Pantoran guy standing at the back who nods – "Remember, knowing your plane inside-out is a very important part of being a good pilot". He pauses, surveying all their faces. "Raza is one of the most talented mechanics we have on Base," he continues, "so make good use of her knowledge while you can, alright?"

Jess nudges my arm and I blush despite myself. Dameron looks at me, waiting, questioning. I nod.

"Alright. You guys can begin. Make sure you fix back everything you dismantle".

"What?" I sputter.

Everyone laughs.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding. This is a strictly visual session. Keep your hands to yourself," Dameron waves them off and they disperse all over the ship. He then walks over to the bench, takes a sip of water and says, "Hey, I'm sorry about this. This stuff is usually theoretical. It's just they've introduced a new policy about recruits having to learn to fix their own planes as soon as – "

"I know. M'thar briefed us. It was his idea. We don't have enough people, with the flu and everything," I say.

"Right. And I was free this afternoon and his Dep Sec said you were working on a broken one anyway so I thought maybe you'd appreciate the break". He's looking right at me as he says this and I feel bad for getting annoyed.

"Of course. That was very kind of you, Commander".

He scoffs at that. Jess grins. I don't like the wicked gleam building in her eye. But before I can say anything else my pager beeps loudly. It's M'thar. Kala, what now.

"I have to go. I'm wanted in Command", I sigh. The recruits are still pottering around the X-wing and the thought of leaving them to it makes me nervous.

"Relax, we'll take care of it", Dameron says, nonplussed. Jess nods, trying to be reassuring but she looks just as confused as me. "Go. Quick". I feel a soft push and realize his hand is low on my back. It feels hot and I turn and walk away as fast as my legs will let me. I don't turn back; I'm afraid of what my face will show.

* * *

General Organa and M'thar have their heads bent over a large sheet – a blueprint or map of some sort – and don't look up when I'm ushered in by one of the General's many assistants. I wait for a few minutes, shifting from one foot to another. There's no one else in Command. I clear my throat.

"General, you sent for me?"

"Come over, Raza," she calls me to the table.

The sheet turns out to be an extremely elaborate blueprint for the making of a binary signal beacon. Not unlike the one that had almost led the First Order to our door. I look up at the General but she answers my question before I can open my mouth.

"Yes, they're plans for the same cloaked transmitter".

"Did you make these?" I ask M'thar. He shakes his head.

"That would've taken months. Just translated them. The originals were in Bocce".

I don't know what Bocce is; still, I nod. He's about to say something else but the General interrupts him.

"M'thar you can brief her on the details later". She looks straight at me. "M'thar intends to create another one, or at least, reconfigure another beacon to pair with this one. For that we need the other beacon and certain other elements that we don't have on Base. One of our contacts is ready and waiting with the required materials and some smaller ammunition that also need to be delivered".

My pulse picks up when I realize what she's saying. She nods at M'thar.

"Bring the list. And the addresses". He runs out of the office.

"The city is still under the New Republic, so you won't find stormtroopers walking around in full gear. But there will be informants everywhere. Be on your guard. Do not get stuck with a tail," she pauses, searching my face before continuing, "You will be taking a transport pod. With Black Leader as pilot".

Stars, not Dameron again. I want to ask if he isn't overqualified for this kind of thing, but I don't. He probably has a secret mission of his own to fulfill. I have so many questions, so many misgivings. I must look confused, because she says once more, "M'thar will brief you before you leave". She seems impatient to be rid of me; she must have other things on her mind.

I nod, trying to steel myself. She picks up a tablet from her desk and starts typing something on it. I stare at the blueprint, trying to find a foothold through everything that's racing through my mind.

"Where am I going?" I ask, finally.

Leia smiles, ever so slightly. "Coruscant," she says, without looking up.

I almost swear out loud. She continues to type. A few more minutes of silence pass.

"Why Commander Dameron?" I ask, taking a chance.

She looks up at that. She sets the tablet back down; taking her time, weighing her options.

"Someone's offered us crucial information. He's been tasked with retrieving it".

It's barely anything, but at least she didn't pretend she was sending her best pilot along for my safety or whatever. If anything, his is the main mission; I'm just a decoy. I think she sees the realization dawn on my face because suddenly, her tone changes.

"I know it's sudden". Her voice is gentler; familiar. "And more than a little out of your job description".

I can't help the laugh that escapes me.

"But these are desperate times. We have to act fast. We have to stay one step ahead of the First Order. Always. And frankly, I can't spare anybody else".

I nod.

"M'thar asked specifically for you, you know".

"Why?"

"You'd better ask him that yourself". She smiles softly.

I want to scream: how do you even know you can trust me? Especially after what happened the last time. I clearly don't know how these things are supposed to run. I don't know if I'm good enough or if I even care enough to do my best. I'm barely here; I'm not a rebel, not a fighter; I'm a castaway. I'm here because I have nowhere to go. And that, I suppose, is why I must do my best.

"I won't fail you, General".

She nods and M'thar enters, file in hand. The General points to a chair in the corner.

"You'd better sit, this might take a while".

* * *

"I gotta say, I'm jealous as hell," says Jess; she's seated on the pilot's seat in the pod, watching me double-check the list of things we're supposed to be carrying to Coruscant. Some of it is supplies and some of the stuff is payment, to be exchanged for equipment or information depending on the contact. There's bottles of 'sky water' – courtesy General Loish – and Bantha meat, and various different kinds of currency, and yes, guns. There's a lot to keep track of. I turn to Jess. She seems amused.

"It's less a mission and more a vacation", she sighs and then scrunches up her nose. "No, it's like a delivery service. They've turned you into an intergalactic postman".

I roll my eyes.

"That is kind of the point. If it was any more dangerous, I wouldn't be the one going".

"Coruscant _is_ dangerous. I don't know what the hell Leia's been smoking".

"Jess!" I chuck a nearby towel at her face.

She laughs and throws it onto the dashboard. "I'm serious; there are spies, _everywhere_. If it wasn't for the Red squad – "

"And the flu –" I add.

" – and M'thar's complete lack of faith in anyone who isn't a mechanic, you never would have gotten this blessed opportunity".

I turn to face her. "Honestly, I wish it was the two of us going," I say. She beams.

"I think that's the sweetest thing you've ever said to me, babe".

"I meant it," and I do; as dreamy as Dameron is, Jess is my – dare I say it – friend. And while I trust him, being around him isn't always easy; I'm more than a little embarrassed in his presence and it isn't always because of the way my heart races; I can't help but think of the last time we went off-Base together. To his credit, Dameron's been entirely normal about the whole thing; he already knew I'd been assigned to this and nothing he's said or done so far indicates that he feels differently about it.

"Imagine the nightlife in that city". Jess sighs again. "And the hot men. And all the different alcohol".

"I doubt I'm going to get to experience much of that".

"Are you crazy? You're going to be meeting some of the shadiest people in the galaxy. Of course they'll be sitting in clubs, surrounded by sin".

I can't help laughing.

"And speaking of sin," Jess gives me a wicked smile and I immediately know where she's going with this. I groan.

"What? I'm not blind. I've seen how flustered you get around him, don't fucking deny it – " I scoff but she continues, " – and Dameron can't keep his eyes off you, so if I was reading the signs right…."

"Shut up, Jess!" Dameron's walking straight toward us, deep in conversation with June (I think that is her name), the Head of Intelligence. I shake my head and turn away.

Jess doesn't bother to hide her smirk. "Let's just say, if something does happen on Coruscant, it wouldn't be the first time".

"What do you mean?" I don't bother looking up from the list in my hand.

"How do you think Snap and Karé got together?"

That gets my attention. "They got together on Coruscant?"

"No; but, they went on a small recon mission to Burung and when they got back; well, the rest is history".

"What is history?" We look up to see Dameron looking in at the door.

"Nothing", Jess and I say in unison.

He doesn't look convinced. "Anyway", he starts, "We'll be off in T-minus two hours so finish up whatever's left. Food, bathroom, etc. etc. I need the pod for the final check. Jess?"

Jess nods. "I'm ready". She moves to the co-pilot seat as Dameron makes his way to the store room at the back.

Just as I'm about to step out she calls out to me.

"You're good right?"

"Hmm?" I have one foot dangling out of the pod.

"You're good to do this, right? Because there's still time to switch. We can find someone else".

"It's 2 hours to takeoff, Jess. And M'thar's right; you need a mechanic for this. Pilots can't do everything, you know".

She frowns. "That's not what I meant". She turns to the controls.

"I know, I know what you meant", I say quickly. "I'm okay. Don't worry; I'll be back before you know it".

She nods without looking back at me. I step out of the pod slowly, what M'thar had told me during the briefing playing in my head – "There is hope out there. And this mission could mean the difference between victory and defeat".

There are bigger things to worry about than the phantoms in my head.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

There is a sense of foreboding about Coruscant.

Dameron had woken me up once we'd left hyperspace. The mass looming in front of us had been dark, too dark to be a planet; even the sliver of it that had lain in the path of the faraway sun. We'd flown in from the side shrouded in night. It was dotted with lights and strange spirals; less a planet than an orb; a galaxy in itself.

The surface is just as dark and brightly lit and bizarre.

We've landed in the dead of night, parked our ship in an old run down garage owned by a Pantoran drug-dealer who is an ally of the Resistance, or so Dameron says. Our entry was smooth and off-the-books; courtesy of two Coruscantian Customs officials who are also important allies. Dameron warns me that this protection is short-lived.

"The First Order's got friends in high and low places. All this does is give us a headstart. The sooner we get done and get back, the better", he says, brow furrowed.

I nod. The plan is to leave the ship here safe and sound; or at least, as safe as the lower levels can be, and use a courser to travel around the planet. We're packing everything we'll need for the next few days – it's mostly money and supplies we've brought for our contacts; food and water we can get anywhere – and my bag is already bursting at the seams. I turn to Dameron to ask why he isn't sharing the burden and he hands me a blaster.

I take a deep breath. BB-8 beeps out from behind me.

"You do know how to use one?" He asks. He looks amused.

"Yeah. Snap showed me".

"Good". His smirk gets wider.

I roll my eyes. "Do we go now or what?"

"Don't roll your eyes at me! Still your Commanding officer here", he tries to sound outraged but the smirk isn't helping his case. He turns to pick up a bottle of 'sky water' and that's when I notice the rifle strapped to his back. And the blaster in the holder on his hip.

"Um, that's for the Zelcans", I tell him when he opens the cap, takes a sip then screws it back on.

"We'll give one to Ziggy here", he replies, gesturing towards the tiny shack lit up with yellow outside our pod. "He's an old friend. And", he says, putting on his jacket, "We're pretty much at his mercy for the next few days, so let's keep him happy".

* * *

Ziggy seems very happy with the bottle and even gives Dameron a hug in return, muttering something in a language I don't recognize. Then Dameron pats BB-8 on the head and says, "You know what to do, buddy". The droid makes a distinctly dejected sound and rolls back to the pod, slots himself back into his spot and shuts down. It's more than a little sad.

"Is it really so necessary to leave him behind?" I ask Dameron as we walk toward the surface-courser Ziggy has prepared for us.

"Someone's gotta watch over the ship. If it gets in the wrong hands; well, it's basically a map to get to Base".

"I thought that's what Ziggy was for". I turn around to look at him but Ziggy's gone back inside. It's just us, out here in the darkness. The narrow street outside the gate has been empty since the time we landed.

Dameron doesn't respond; he's too busy entering the coordinates into the navigation system. Then he picks up the helmet hanging from the handles of the courser and hands it to me. The other one is underneath the seat, inside the storage. I dump my bag into the storage as soon as he fishes the helmet out. It was starting to hurt my back.

Finally, he inserts the ignition chip. "Alright", he says as the engine warms up to a soothing hum. This one's much quieter than the coursers we had back home. It's been a lifetime since I've driven anything but cleaning bogeys. My pulse picks up.

Then he climbs into the driver seat.

"Wait, you're driving?" I blurt out.

He looks confused. "You want to drive?"

"Aren't you tired? I just assumed you'd want to take a break or something".

He shakes his head. "I've had my rest. While we were in hyperspace. Don't worry about me".

I don't say anything. He must think I'm still confused or something because he steps closer and squeezes my shoulder. My face feels hot. Thank Kala it's night.

"I'm the one that's been assigned for your protection, so; really, it's fine".

That is decidedly not true, but I get on the seat behind him anyway.

"Ready?" Dameron's voice is muffled by the bulky helmet.

"Ready", I call out.

I take one last look at the shack, it's yellow lights finally turned off, and our ship, with poor little BB-8 asleep in there somewhere, before we set off into the oblivion that is Coruscant.

* * *

We climb at least fifteen levels - probably more, I started counting midway – and the most noticeable change is how much clearer the air gets. When I ask Dameron he says we're still in the lower levels, and the air quality at the surface is much better. Apparently all the pollution gets channeled into the lower levels. The roads and buildings look the same throughout; littered with neon lights and grotesque advertisements, though the number of vehicles driving alongside us steadily increases with each level. When we finally come to a stop, it's outside a pub.

I wait near the entrance, clutching my bag, while Dameron parks the courser across the street. The blue sign hanging over the door says 'Outer Rim'. It doesn't look too big, but I can feel the pavement reverberating from the bass playing inside. There are people milling around the entrance; two women standing next to the door smoking shoot me a look full of suspicion. I wonder where the smoke goes in this absurd, sky-less city.

"Shall we?" I almost jump when Dameron suddenly appears at my side. "Hey, relax. It'll be fine", he says under his breath as we enter. His hand is low on my back as he guides me to the bar.

It's hot inside. And loud. I accidentally brush against the man beside me while trying to settle into the high stools at the bar and get smoke blown right into my face in return. Dameron orders two pints of ale.

"Should we be drinking?"

He turns to me, completely exasperated. "We're at a bar. Gotta blend in. We don't have to finish it. It doesn't have too much alcohol in it, don't worry".

I nod.

"Besides, I thought you could hold your liquor," he continues. I roll my eyes at him again; he only smirks in return. There's something different about him; ever since we landed. Something almost looser. It's making my stomach flop in terrible ways.

"Will you relax?" His voice is low but he can't hide his amusement. "You look ready to run at the slightest".

"Shouldn't we be?" I say. He laughs and passes me my drink. We sit in silence for the next few moments, sipping, watching. The whole place is lit in red, like we're all sitting inside an animal's innards. I like it. I also like that despite the music, no one's dancing. Everyone's busy chatting and smoking, table littered with drinks or, by the looks of it, gambling. Then the man beside me stumbles as he gets off his stool, spilling a bit of his drink on me in the process. I don't understand the words, but he seems apologetic, so I smile and nod. He even offers me a cigarette. I take it.

Dameron shakes his head as I lean across and the bartender lights it for me.

"Accepting strange drugs from strangers in the Coruscantian underworld, huh. What will the General say?" He tuts.

"I know a cigarette when I see one," I retort. I offer it to him and he takes a drag. I try not to stare at the way his jaw clenches.

"How much longer?" I ask.

He checks the watch on his wrist and hands me the cigarette. "He should be here soon enough".

Dameron's wearing his jacket, of course – too many guns – but we're both wearing orange shirts, which under the red light look almost white and sitting at the extreme right end of the bar, all as directed by our contact. He will come to us. All we know about him is that he is a very, very tall, blue-skinned Twi'lek named Gorotdin who used to work with M'thar.

"This will take time, right?" Dameron suddenly asks.

"Uh, I guess. I have to take everything apart, scan it, etc. etc."

"Right. Um, do you mind if I pop out for a bit? While you're working".

"What?" My voice comes out a squeak. Just the thought of being left alone in this alien world, even for a few minutes, makes me feel faint. Before I can ask him anything else, though, a deep voice booms out from behind us.

"Poe Dameron". We get off our stools and come face to face with a large Twi'lek male. It's impossible to tell the colour of his skin under the red lights, but he's clearly over six-feet.

"And", he turns to me with the smallest hint of a smile, "Raza Nufi'adeh". I can see Dameron's confused glance out of the corner of my eye.

The man extends his hand out to me. "Too many moons have passed since I last heard that name". I'm only vaguely aware of my hand in his; the shock of hearing my full name said out loud, _correctly_ , hits me like a physical blow to the chest.

"Shall we?" He asks, making to move towards the exit.

"Wait, don't we get some ID or something?" Dameron stops him. "You are?"

"Gorotdin. I grew up on Dantooine, with M'thar. M'thar, who sent you, who is like my brother, who is now Head Mechanic of the Resistance – "

"Alright, alright". Dameron cuts him short, looking around to see if anyone heard. "Maybe don't use that word in – "

Gorotdin laughs. It's a deep, hearty laugh. "These degenerates don't care for your battles, Commander", he replies, gesturing around the club. And he's right; no one so much as bats an eye in our direction. There's a slight smile on his face as he looks around; I think he's genuinely fond of the place. Then he turns to Dameron, "Follow me upstairs and all your fears will be put to rest".


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Turns out the building has another floor which can only be accessed from the outside via a narrow side staircase. We pass through a long balcony with clotheslines crisscrossing overhead and reach a door that Gorotdin quickly unlocks. Inside is a workstation. The ceiling is low and it smells just a tiny bit musty, but it's so well organised, M'thar would've cried. He points to a large box kept on the counter.

I move towards it but Dameron stops me.

"The transmission?" He turns to the Twi'lek.

Gorotdin opens a drawer and takes out a miniature recorder. He shakes it and a small hologram of M'thar pops up.

"Code 53432 to Commander Dameron from RV 1618", the image says.

Dameron nods at Gorotdin who then moves over and opens the box for me. The device inside is a maze of gold and titanium chips surrounding a black core of uranium – the quantum pole required to reconfigure the cloaked signal beacon in our possession – or the 'entangler' as M'thar nicknamed it. I could recognise it in my sleep, that's how many times I've studied the bloody blueprints.

I look up and realise the other two have been staring at me, waiting. I nod. "This is it".

Gorotdin smiles in relief.

"But, I need to take it apart – at least as much as I can – and that will take hours. Literally".

Gorotdin nods as I settle in; taking out the tools I'll need, going through the blueprints. The first thing I have to do is test purity of the elements that make the entangler; even a slight aberration means the whole thing is worthless. Considering this one has been sourced from the black market, there's a very good chance of it being damaged.

Someone taps me on the shoulder just as I'm about to begin.

It's Dameron. "Hey, um, remember I'd said I'd be heading out for a bit?" His voice is so soft I almost can't hear him. He glances at the Twi'lek who has now settled into an armchair in the corner of the room. His eyes are closed but he obviously isn't asleep.

Dameron seems to be waiting for a response so I nod. My pulse has picked up again; I really, really do not want to be left alone. I think he senses my panic because he squeezes my shoulder.

"You will be fine. I'll be back real quick. I promise. If anything happens, you know how to reach me. And you have your blaster", he says. His eyes dart all over my face.

There is no way out of this and I can't afford to act like a helpless child so I nod once again. This time, hopefully, my face inspires more confidence. Dameron squeezes my shoulder again and then he's gone.

Gorotdin gives out a little snore.

Kala help me. Seems there's nothing left to do but get back to work.

* * *

'Real quick' to Dameron apparently means four hours. I'm lucky Gorotdin is a decent guy because no way in hell am I ready to handle a situation uglier than a fistfight.

When Dameron finally turns up, it is just in time to watch me and Gorotdin enjoying a plate of steak that he had delivered up from the pub. He looks like he stepped through a whirlwind.

"How's it been going for you guys? Are you finished?"

I'm irritated and don't answer him right away. I should probably offer him a piece; I see him eyeing it. It must've been weeks since the last time we had meat on Base. But, I decide to be petty because he took four fucking hours to come back and keep chewing as though he isn't even in the room.

"The piece is defective". I answer finally, after gulping down a glass of water.

Dameron stares at me and then at Gorotdin and then back at me. Gorotdin shrugs.

"Fuck". He sits down, hand over face.

"Yeah, I realised about forty minutes in. Tried calling you; but, you didn't answer". I say, getting up to wash my hands.

"How do you know?"

"The uranium is degraded. It can't be used".

"I had warned M'thar this would be a risk. I had no way to check its authenticity. This is not my area of expertise, unfortunately", Gorotdin interjects.

Dameron ignores him. "Fuck", he says again. "What now?"

I don't answer; my back is to him as I stand at the tiny sink near the window.

Gorotdin answers him instead. "You have two options my friend. Either you come back here in three days, in which case I will do my best to procure two of these things that you need, in case one of them is faulty".

"Or?"

"Or we go to the dealer and get it ourselves". I say, facing him this time.

Again, he scans our faces, as though trying to find an answer.

"Well, we can't come back. We have to leave in exactly" - he looks at his watch before continuing – "two days and eighteen hours. And we have other contacts to meet; this place is completely off-route either way". He runs his hands through his hair, ruffling up the already unruly curls. "Fuck".

"We could talk to Command. Extend the trip", I say.

"No. No, that – "Dameron pauses, his eyes darting all over the room. "That is a massive risk. It's alright, um, we had a backup guy right?"

"Not for this piece. The other ones are general, not as conspicuous. M'thar only trusts Gorotdin for this", I reply.

"Yes, there are rumours that the First Order lost a quantum tracker to the Resistance", Gorotdin adds. "So if the Black market knew someone was looking for a beacon's quantum pole it would be very easy to trace it back to your people. I have connections; ways to mask my purchases. Which is why M'thar asked me to do this".

"And this dealer of yours, you trust him?" Dameron asks him.

"He would never betray me", he declares, his deep voice solemn.

"And if he knew you sent us – "

"You could try, but I don't know if his loyalty extends that far. He will have what you need, that you can be sure of. But, it is a risk". Gorotdin shrugs again; this time he seems more apologetic.

I stay silent while Dameron runs both his hands through his hair in frustration. He doesn't take long to decide.

"Alright. Seems like this dealer is the only option we've got".

* * *

Gorotdin walks down with us till the entrance of the pub. Judging by the thudding bass, the party is alive and well, despite it technically being morning. I guess that's the advantage of living someplace sunlight can never reach.

"I am deeply sorry that I could not be of more use", Gorotdin clasps his hands over his heart. "I wish you both all the good fortune you will need for the rest of your journey".

"Thank you for everything", Dameron says, extending his hand to shake Gorotdin's.

I smile. "Thanks for the steak", I say.

Gorotdin gives a deep chuckle. "It was my pleasure. It made me very happy to learn your name. I too, lost a dear friend that day. I hope, for the Force and for your people, you live a long life".

"Thank you", is all I can say without letting tears come to my eyes. Who would've thought I'd have to come to a different planet to find someone who remembered my people as more than just a tragedy, another casualty of the First Order.

He nods at me one last time before turning to Dameron.

"Goodbye, Commander Poe Dameron". And just like that, he's gone.

* * *

Dameron and I walk to where he's parked the bike in silence. The only person around is a drunk man stumbling across the road a few meters ahead of us and another person asleep under a lamppost.

"What did he mean about learning your name?" Dameron voice is soft but still rings out in the empty street.

"It's a long story".

"Okay, I'm listening".

"I'll tell you later. It really is very long". It isn't; I just don't feel like talking.

Dameron nods. There's silence again. He fidgets with his watch and then turns to look behind us.

"I'm extremely hungry and since you didn't save me any steak, we're going to have to stop on the way. Also we have to check in at the place we'd decided on for tonight. I was thinking we'll check in first and then head to the next guy".

I nod. I don't know why he's so chatty all of a sudden. He opens the trunk of the courser and hands me a helmet.

"M'thar should've warned us about this, you know, this is going to fuck everything up – "

"He did".

"I'm sorry?" Dameron looks up from the courser.

"M'thar did say that this might happen. Which is why we came here first. We were warned".

"Okay".

"What I wasn't warned about, was that you would just up and leave for hours together and not pick up any of the calls while I was stuck in a room with a big, strange, man. I'm not an idiot, I know you have some secret stuff of your own to do but no one fucking told me I'd be left to fend for myself. I'm not a soldier, I'm not a pilot; I haven't been trained like you and Jess and everyone and I – " I realise I'm shaking and shut my eyes to try and calm myself. I had obviously been far more terrified than I'd let myself admit.

Dameron must've realized it as well because he says nothing. He waits until I've opened my eyes and my breathing has returned to normal.

"I'm sorry". He looks me right in the eye but keeps his distance. Like you would a wild animal. No more comforting pats on the shoulder. "I'm really sorry. It shouldn't have taken that long. I got –"

He clenches his jaw suddenly and then breathes out through his mouth.

"They spotted me. They knew I was coming. I was able to escape but I had to take a different route so that they wouldn't be able to follow. That's why I couldn't answer your calls".

"What do you mean they knew you were coming?" My stomach twists in dread.

"The First Order. They were expecting us. They have people everywhere. I don't think they know who our contacts are, but they know we're here".

"Because of the beacon?"

"No. Because they're looking for the exact same thing as I am. That Leia sent me here for. And it seems like they might have beaten us to it".

 **It's been a busy few weeks but now that I'm gonna be home all day, hopefully I'll be able to update a lot more often!**

 **Thank you to everyone who left the lovely reviews! It warms my heart and inspires me write a lot faster.**

 **Stay safe people! And hope you like this chapter. Remember to review!**


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